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In the latter part of July ot last year, 1 was encamped toi a feu 
days, with several pood gentlemen, near the North Star mine on 
the headwaters of Rapid river, and Mr. Johnson arriving one even- 
ing, those of the party who t)ossessed the proper vein in their 
natures gradually turned the social channel into a "feast of 
reason and a How of soul." '-Dickens in Camp'" would have biouglu a 
verj- meek feeling to Bret Harte could he have been present. During 
the great variety of literai-y research and (criticism which was 
indulged in. Mr. Johnson favored the company with a rendition ot 
of the second poem in this volume— "The Home of the Moun 
taineer." There, with true natuie in all her vastness and giandeur 
spread out beneath us, ( we were at an altitude of about 8,000 feet i 
with the green forests stretching away for miles, with mountain 
'•turrets reaching to the sky" above us, it was easy to appreciate 
the impulses which inspired the lines. Having myself just repeated 
some lines of Bryant which I gieatly admire: 

"All dim in haze the mountains lay. 

With dimmer vales between. 
And rivers glimmered on their way 
By forests faintly seen." 

Andbcing immediately followed by Mr. Johnson, 1 was deeply 
struck with the favorable nianner in which his lines comi)ared with 
Bryant's; and with the "visible forms" of natuie on all sides, his 
words carried siich an inexpressible beauty that on the si)ur of the 
moment I proi)osed to him that 1 publish a volume of his poems. 
This explanation of how this little work came to be printed and 
ottered for sale is perhaps unnecessary, but it will serve the pui- 
pose sufficiently well for an introductory. 

Mr. Johnson has been accused of plagiarism, but 1 fail to recog- 
nize, in looking over his poetry, anything coming under that head. 
Some of the verses, herein, contain a vein of underlying sentiment 
that fully entitles them to preservance. Others are of a much 
shallower character, but are mostly connected with some incident, 
or reminiscence of this se<;tion, which will cause the volume to be 
a pleasant souvenir in the years to come. It is true that its pro 
ductlon necessitated the risk of a few dollars on an enterprise the 
fate of which might be considered doubtful, and at a time when 
dollais are not to be risked without some hesitancy, but on the 
whole 1 think it is well timed. It is trusted that it will meet a sutti- 
cient degree of favoi' with the |)ublic to at least guarantee the sales. 

Kespectfully. 

Weiser. Maicli 1. im,. R. K. L(K'K\VO(H). 



3 2) ^ "^ r 



Poems of Idaho. 



Sunset at Rapid River. 

Slow the orb of day's declining. 

In his golden beauty dressed, 
While the fleecy clouds at evening 

Linger in the glowing west. 

Painted by the sun's bright pencils. 

In their radiant beauty shine; 
Pencils tipped with golden sunbeams. 

Wielded by a hand divine. 

In the vales the twilight lingers. 

On the hills the sober gray: 
While upon the mountain's summit. 

Still the golden sunbeams play. 

Slowly fade those scenes of glory. 

With the sun's last golden ray; 
While the mountains, grand and hoary 

Kiss the lingering beams of day. 

On the hill the twilight gathers. 

Darkness shrouds the y alleys now: 
While the gray a moment glimmers. 

On the rugged mountain's brow. 

Softly fall the shades of evening, 
Over mountain, hill and plain; 

While the gloom that round us gathers, 
Whispers night has come again. 



4 POKMS OF IDAHO. 

The Home of the Mountaineer. 

|No one who has Ijehehl the niuje.-tic inuiiiitain uraiult-iii' 
N'urthern Washiiiiu^ton County can tiiil to appieeiate the hea\ity 
the foUowingr lines. | 

Aome sing of life in cities fair, 
Some sing of homes in valleys green. 

Some sing of pleasures on the beach. 
Where wealth and gayeties are seen. 

Hut I will sing of grandest scenes 

That ever met the human eye. 
Of forests green, of crystal streams, 

Of turrets reaching to the sky. 

(Jive me the grand old mountain range. 

Their lofty summits crowned with snow. 
Their canyons weird, grand and strange. 

Through which the crystal fountains flow. 

Their evergreen, their shady groves. 
The feathered songsters' loved retreat. 

The fiowers of every hue that blows 
And sweetly nestles at their feet. 

I could not live in vales below: 
The wild and weird scenes so rife 

That cluster round those peaks of snow 
Are interwoven with my life. 

The lordly elk, the timid deer. 

That graze upon the foliage there. 
The eagle, bird that knows no fear. 

With freedom cleaves the mountain air. 

Far up among those rocky peaks 
The mountain goat, with fearless trea-l, 

From crag to crag, with nimble feet, 
Leaps free, with neither fear oiidread. 

Amidst those craggy snow-crowned peaks. 

That glisten in the morning air, 
A home the fearless eagle seeks. 

And safely builds his eyrie there. 



l'()K>!S OK IDAHO 

I know the meaning now of Tell, 

Who rushed ^vith oulst retched arms to gre 
His mountain hom(\ where freedom dwells. 

Nor fears the tread of t\ i-anls' fi-ei. 

And when my work of life siudl cease. 

And I on earth no more shall dwell. 
May I fore\t r re.st in peace 

Amidst those scenes I love so well. 



The Seven Devils — Eeview of the Oamp. 

(This poetru:-try in not K'ven tis meriting- a pltu-e. as jxietic 
literature, with the two precediuji: produt-tiona, but for tiie object it 
Huiy accomplish of inipies.sinf^ the unfamiliar leader with the 
magnitude of the Seven Devil:-^ copper fields.] 

Once more the Devil takes a tramp 

Around the Seven Devil camp. 

To note improvement that's been made 

In miners' work of every grade: 

To see tlie ore shining bright, 

That toiling men have brought to liiihl: 

To hear the news of every kind 

About the Seven Devil mines; 

And then report to men of sense 

The facts, which are our best defence. 

Against the cur who roams about 

And swears the mines are all played out. 

Then sneaks about, devcjid of shame. 

To jump some working miner's claim: 

Before the public then parade 

The great discovery he has made. 

With such a thieving, lazy pup 

The Devil yet will settle up. 

With pen and paper in our hand 

We start to view the promised land. 

From Snake River toward the east. 

Without the fear of man or beast, 

We move along the rough divide 

And note the mines on every side. 



POKMS OK IDAITO. 

The first dcNelopiiKMil that's seen 
Is made upon the River Queen; 
Red copper oxides here abound 
lioth on the top and under irround; 
And when their tunnel strikes the mine 
In depth they will their fortunes find. 
And then, in justice, they can claim 
The mine is worthy of its name. 
Both up and down this rapid stream 
Can many other mines be seen. 
Towards t])e north the lime peak stands. 
A noted point within the land; 
Around its face a group of mines 
Alread}' found, and more to find: 
And ore rich can there be seen. 
Where miners will their fortunes g-lean. 
The next development we find 
Is on the Charley Leithstrom mine: 
The Cranky is the name. I believe 
That from its owners it received. 
Gray copper ore here we trace. 
With silver mixed to help the case. 
And here we may as well declare 
No lazy crank is working there. 
Across the gulch the Box mine lays. 
Rich copper g:lance the mine displays. 
The IJttle Rock, the next we find. 
Will surely prove a paying mine. 
Still moving: east along the route 
We note the name of Silver Sprout. 
A mine where little work is done 
Y(4 showing croppings number one. 
We climb the ridge and on its crest 
We find the Golden Eagle's nest: 
And here the ore brought to light 
Would charm a mining expert's sight: 
Tlie eggs we find are sj)rinkled through 
Witli silver, gold and copper too. 
.\s iMch MS any in the land. 
I. el those denv the facts who can: 



POKXrs OK IDAHO. 

And as they sink tlu- sliafl below 

The miin' will in its richne-s grow. 

Another ledge upon the ground 

Where Chloride ore has been found. 

Is well defined and ten feel wide. 

Free milling silver ore beside. 

On the same ground and cl( se about. 

The old :SI()U ledge is cropping out. 

These lodrs will prove the Eagle's nest 

The great bonanza of the West. 

l>ut eastward still we hold our course. 

In search of this great mineral source. 

Joining the (Jolden Eagle mine 

Toward the east the prospect's fine. 

The Northern Hell is looking fair. 

Its croppings stand up in the air. 

AViih Peacock ore and copper glance. 

The owners stand a splendid chance 

To glean their fortunes from the mine. 

To last them through all coming time. 

Again \ve climb the mountain side. 

And on a small but rough divide 

The ClifT mine stands, with Peacock ore. 

Gray copper, too. they have in store. 

Across the gulch, toward the east. 

The Hannibal our vision feasts; 

With Peacock ore and copper glance. 

And gold its value to enhance. 

And silver, too, with them are found. 

Improving as they sink it down. 

Then if you think this not enough. 

Step down and view the Silver P>lurt". 

Below the Oliff^^ mine, near the road. 

You'll find this mammoth silver lode. 

The croppings stand above the ground. 

Where copper gray, and silver's found: 

A million tons in sight, will pay 

For smelting in an early day. 

Here many other mines an> claimed. 

No work vet done upon the same. 



I'OKMS OK IDAHO. 

lUil ci()|)piiiirs good on all we find. 

Which iiidicale a paying mine. 

We move along tlie wagon road 

And note the forests grand and good. 

With timber here to work the mines. 

l-'or ages yet of coming time. 

On Tvockwood Saddle now we stand 

.\nd gaze upon the promised land. 

Then liigher up the hill we climb 

To catch a view of all the mines. 

Here we behold a grand displa}', 

And naught obscures our visual ray: 

Hut all around on ever}- side. 

From lofty peak t ) low divide, 

IMie mines in groups of two or more 

Dazzle our eye with glittei-ing ore. 

Far to the south and to the east, 

On mineral wealth our vision feasts. 

The Mountain King, Alaska too. 

'LMie CJleveland and Maud S. will do. 

The Sampson, Belmont, Mountain Queen, 

And C'oppin- Crescent there is seen. 

The great Blue Jacket next we find, 

Wliich proves a well developed mine. 

The r.egal Tender on the west 

May yet turn out one of the best: 

While on the south does Helena 

Her treasures to our sight display. 

Still onward, south, the Ella mine 

Beside tln^ Fireside there we find. 

Then turning east and up the creek. 

The mines loom up both fast and thick. 

The grand Decora, in her pride. 

The Arkansaw close by her side. 

On wiiich development has shown 

.\ mine we all would like to own. 

To these we add, without regret, 

The mine they call the Calumet. 

Across the creek, and up the hill, 

The old French ledge is booming still: 



POEMS OF IDAHO. ! 

Rich both in gold and silver too, 

With tons of ore there in view. 

Still further up this grand divide, 

And on the south, or Bear creek side, 

We see the Allen silver mine: 

The ore proves of tlie richest kind. 

And in the Placer Basin, too, 

Are many mines both good and true. 

But here again, with glad surprise. 

We turn to view with eager eyes, 

The mines developed to the west. 

And all along ihe mountain's crest. 

The Ijookout and the Lockwood, too, 

Pomeroy and Circle C. will do; 

The Dora's bright, rich ore we see, 

To this a lady holds the ke3\ 

The Anaconda comes into view, 

And Young America is there too. 

The Tussle, Crown, and Hidden Treasure, 

Are rich in ore, bt^yt nd measure 

Estella May, Last Chance and Ophir, 

Grand prospects to their owners offer. 

Virginia next, and then Bill Nye, 

New Moon and little Nelly Bly. 

The Copper Key, it will unlock 

The treasures in the mountain rock. 

The Wedge mine, next, and Standard there. 

And Bodie. all are looking fair. 

The South Peacock next comes to view. 

And here the ore would charm a Jew. 

And ore found within the mine 

Is gold and copper both combined. 

And samples found here, not a few. 

With wire gold pierced through and through. 

The mine will prove one of the best 

Developed in the growing West. 

But as our work has scarce begun 

We'll leave this mine and hasten on. 

The Old Peacock, a noted mine. 

Is known almost in everv clime. 



10 FOE^fS OF IDAHO. 

Tons upon Ions of ore lay 

There basking in the sun's bright ray: 

Just such a sight we've never seen, 

l)f copper mines it is the queen. 

It makes the Devil laugh to think 

What wealth they'll find when down ihey sink'. 

When opened up in splendid style 

This mine will make the owners smile. 

And furnish work for laboring men. 

Till many generations end. 

Around this claim a group of mines, 

Almost of every size and kind. 

Are owned by men of nerve and pluck, 

Who will their hidden wealth unlock. 

The North Peacock, and Bad<:er. too, 

l^lack Garnet. Steamboat, Idaho; 

There's West Peacock, and Statehood, too. 

With Confidence our faith renew; 

And Copperopolis, how grand, 

AVith Silveropolis at hand; 

And Hazel, Laura, Victoria 

Will not our confidence betray. 

The Tamarack is sure to win. 

The St. Louis is coming in. 

The Wiggins, and the Memphis there. 

While brightly shines the Morning Star. 

The Evening iStar is not yet set, 

But shines with brilliant rays, you bet. 

The Edith, Ellen, and Climax;' 

The great White Monument comes next, 

There's copper liere, and silver too. 

With free gold sprinkled through and through. 

At free gold, here, one single glance 

Would make a Wall Street broker dance: 

He'd try to lock the whole thing up, 

And rob the world, the thieving pup! 

Calamity Jane we see at last— 

AVe hope the calamit,y has passed. 

There's East Climax and Hellen Blazes; 

The Boston's wealth we cannot measure. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 11 

The Emma, and the Humboldt, there, 

And Pocahontas looking- fair. 

The Gem of this great mountain range. 

The Chieftain, Hecla and Exchange, 

The Tiger. Crown Point, Copper King, 

We need not here their praises sing. 

Eureka, Dublin, and the Whale. 

And California cannot fail. 

Salubria. Cougar, AHiance. 

We see them all here at a glance. 

And many more we have not named. 

May yet prove mines of wealth and fame; 

zVnd hundreds more tliat are not .yet found 

Whose croppings shine on vacant ground. 

Awaiting prospectors there to trace 

The rich ore to its hiding place, 

And locate mines, and fortunes glean 

From mineral ledges yet unseen. 

The country rock throughout, we find, 

Is granite, porphyry and lime. 

Now and then the slate appears 

But on the whole is rather scarce. 

No better formation can be found 

For mineral wealth beneath the ground. 

The water here, and wood suppl}- 

Will last till generations die. 

A wagon road, good and "substanch," 

From Weiser to the Huntley ranch. 

From here the Klienschmidt road we find 

Complete up ro the Peacock mine; 

And teams more plentv. hauling ore, 

Than they have ever been before. 

Men scarcely yet preceive the good 

Derived from this new wagon road. 

"Twill help to pierce this mountain belt, 

And show the world our mineral wealth. 

And men of sense will come and see, 

Then spread the news from sea to sea. 

That here in Idaho they find 

The largest and the richest mines 



P0EM8 OF IDAHO. 

That ever yet on earth was seen 

B3' any living human being: 

And when the world these facts shall knoW; 

Thousands will come to Idaho, 

To build up homes, their means invest, 

And live and prosper in the West. 

West of the Peacock, close at hand. 

The embryotic city stands; 

And men of means, who here invest, 

Will prove their judgment of the best. 

Helena is the city's name, 

The village soon will rise to fame; 

Equal, if not surpass, the best 

Of mining cities in the West. 

We saw one woman in our round. 

The first. I believe, within the town; 

We hope that many more \vill come 

To help adorn our mountain home 

As mothers, daughters, sisters, wife, 

To add a charm to mountain life. 

Although we're told by men of old, 

They taught the world to sin, 
Without their aid love's star would fade. 

And life would not be worth a pin. 
Shame on the man, whose sordid soul. 

Within his heart could find 
The will and power to teach the world, 

Such nonsense as divine. 
But here it may as well be known. 
That this great camp is not alone; 
From Peacock mine we take a run 
Nine miles toward the rising sun; 
Here we behold the Sommers camp, 
That richly pays us for our tramp; 
The royal metals here we find. 
Are gold and silver both combined; 
The ledges on this great divide 
Will measure two to six feefwide. 
'Tis said the richest rock will run 
Three thousand dollars to the ton. 



POEMS OF IDAHO IH 

While all the ledo^es yet in view, 
Are rich in gold, and silver too. 
There's many found that bear rich ore. 
And plenty room to look for more; 
From here, northwest for many mile?. 
Good prospects meet us all the while: 
With timber plenty, and to spare. 
With crystal streams and purest air; 
For life, and health, the world around. 
No better heritage could be found. 
But soon, we are told, travelers can find 
A railroad track laid to the mine: 
The locomotive's snort we'll hear. 
We'll greet him with a hearty cheer; 
We'll load him down with ore bright. 
And send him on his outward flight; 
And while he is gone with loads of ore, 
AVe'll sharp our tools and^dig for more. 
But here we are compelled to pause. 
And who will deny we have just cause. 
To speak of all the wealth that is here. 
Would take the Devil many a year. 
"Then tell us not in mournful numbers," 

Mining is an empty dream; 
For the millions here that slumbers 

In these geologic seams; 
We know bj' miners' picks and shovels 

And the power of dynamite; 
With the aid of drills and hammers. 

These will yet be brought to light. 
Now some old foggy shakes his head. 
And will not believe what we have said: 
We've stated facts, just as they be. 
If vou don't believe it come and see. 




14 I'OE>5S OF IDAird, 



Love. 



Love IS but the Howevs of litV 

That bloom in warm atft'Ctions bowt-rs: 
It softens care, and tempers strife, 

And gilds with joy our social hours. 

Let love depart, then friendship dies, 

And life is but a dreary waste: 
Naught else is found beneath the skies 

To crown with joy the human race. 

1 know but one that I could lov^e, 
With love eternal, firm and true. 

And. as I hope for heaven above, 
That one is none else but you. 

And yet I know the sacred prize 

To me is lost l>y fate's decree. 
While on an other beam the eyes 

That should have oped with love for me. 

I know that love is laughed to scorn 

Hy those wlio deem themselves most wise, 

They think if wealth their homes adorn, 
'Twill make this world a paradise. 

J>ut wealth may glitter in the home 

Where dwells the monsters, hate and sti'ife. 

Where love and joy doth never come 
To lift the cares from man and wife. 

The love that's true will sun^y live 

Through all the ages yet to be. 
What it receives 'twill truly give. 

Till time unvails eternity. 

Then lo\e should be our guiding star 
Through all the changing scenes of life, 

For only those who truly love, 

l>y MJiture's law are man and wife. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 15 

Farewell to Idaho. 

Oome all ye heroes of tlie laud. 

We'll sing" of AVesterii life, 
Ye pioneers who led the van 

Through danger, toil and strife; 
Wlio planted freedom's starrv flag. 

In spite of savage foe, 
Upon the rugged mountain peaks 

And plains of Idaho. 

You saw the land in days of yore, 

When savage foes were 'round; 
You heard, through valley, cove and dell. 

The warwhoop's dismal sound; 
You've scaled her lofty mountain peaks. 

You've crossed the torrents arch, 
You've met the grizzly in his path, 

The warrior on his march. 

The W'ild deer bounded from his lair. 

And sped across the land; 
The elk. that noblest beast of chase, 

Were seen on every hand; 
The cougar's savage growl was heard. 

The gra}' wolf's dismal howl, 
The coyote yelping on the plain. 

Made music for us all. 

The scene has changed; alas, no more 

The wild deer scuds the plain. 
The lordly elk. a sylvan god. 

With us but few remain; 
Our savage foeman. once so strong, 

Is feeble now at best, 
His star of empire, once so grand. 

Is setting in the West. 

We will see no more the trapper's da}% 

The hunters fame is gone, 
The game and fur have passed away. 

No more can they return; 



1(5 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

But ill their stead domestic life 

Is teemiiifr on the hills, 
The lowing- herds and tinkling bells. 

The air with music fills. 

The civilizing magic wand 

Has touched the primal pl.iin: 
Where n amed the savMg(^ beasts of prey 

Now waves the golden grain; 
Where stood the dusky warrior's lodge 

The school house proudly stands, 
Where rose the savage w.irrior's cry 

The songs of peace ascend. 

W^here, in the mountains' solitude. 

Was heard but nature's song, 
The miner's pick and anviTs-ring 

The chorus still prolong; 
The mountains yield their precious store 

To beautify the land; 
While labor, toil and enterprise 

Is seen on ever^^ hand. 

While some have reached the golden shore 

And dwell in fairy land, 
Some struggle on with hope's bright star 

Still shining- in the van; 
While some beneath the churchyard sleep. 

Some rest in unknown graves. 
Some met the storm king on the deep, 

•And sleep beneath the waves. 

To those who reached the golden shore 

By the just and honest way. 
May peace and plenty crown their board. 

Till life shall pass away; 
To those who struggle on in hope 

We give a hearty cheer; 
To those who sleep in unknown graves 

We drop a friendly tear. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 

And now farewell to Idalu). 

Her clear and sparkling- streams. 
Her mountains robed in purest snow. 

Her valleys clothed in green; 
'Tis fate's decree that I must go. 

And tu my fate I yield: 
ril call and see you all ag-ain 

When fortune turns the wheel. 



Tliat is the way I used to sing-, 

But now I've changed my tune, 
My talJi of leaving- Idaho 

Was a little bit too soon: 
Dame Fortune smiled, I've struck it rich. 

And the best thing- I can do 
Is change my mind, and settle down. 

And see the countrv through. 



To My Mother in the Spirit World, 

Mother dear, how dark and dreary 
Seems the rugged path Tve trod. 

Wandering, homeless and wear}'. 
Since we lay thee 'neath the sod. 

There no parting words were spoken 
In that sad and solemn hour, 

When life's golden thread was broken; 
Speech had lost its magic power. 

In the coffin, pale and silent. 
Lay the form we loved so well; 

And we viewed it, with what anguish 
Human speech can never tell. 

Slowly moved the sad procession 
From our home, where joy had fled, 

To that dark and silent chamber. 
Where repose the sacred dead. 



IS I'OKMfS OF IDAHO. 

Tenderly we lowered the coffin 
To its place of sacred rest; 

While the sad farewell was spoken 
Sorrow reigned in every breast. 

Though we knew 'twas but the casket 
That must moulder with the dead, 

While the jewel, bright and joyous, 
To a fairer world had fled. 

Time may dim my mental vision. 

Age creeps on — my .ycmth is o'er; 
But mj' sacred love maternal, 

Lives till time shall be no more. 

Mother from thy spirit mansion 
In the beauteous summer land. 

Guide my footsteps on life's journey. 
Lead me with thy lovingr hand. 

Then when death's cold icy fingers 
Firmly grasps my aching heart, 

I'll not shrink but bid him welcome, 
Bid him hurl his fatal dart. 

Though our lives may be eternal, 
Death must set the spirit free; 

And each turn of earth diurnal, 
Brings me nearer home to thee. 



Sunset at the Seven Devils. 

It was evening and the orient sun 
Into his bed was moving on; 
The air was cool, a gentle breeze 
Came whispering through the waving trees; 
The feathered songsters of the west 
Were seeking for their place of rest; 
The lowing herds, their music stills. 
And sink to rest upon the hills. 



POEMS OF IDAHO 

The sun was sinking in tlie west. 

A golden sliield upon liis breast. 

A sudden impulse seized my soul: 

The impulse got beyond control: 

And in my frenz}' off I lued 

To climb the rugged mountain side 

To gaze upon receding day. 

And watch the goiden sunbeams play 

In vivid streaks across th(> si?y 

To paint the clouds that Hoated by. 

And, oh, I thought those clouds w^n-e blesscfl. 

They moved so sweetly from the west: 

In colors gorgeous and grand 

As ever left a painter's hand. 

The yellow tinge, the golden hue. 

The scarlet red, the lovely blue; 

The silvery gra} , the while, the bhick. 

No colors did the picture lack. 

But all in beauty gathered there. 

Suspended in the evening air. 

And while those clouds in beauty float. 

Like fabled fairy's pleasure boat, 

I gazed ui>on the western skies 

Bespangled with unnumbered dyes, 

In admiration and surprise 

I turned to view the eastern skies. 

The grand mountain's lofty height 

Reflected still the beams of lignt: 

Down at his feet, in sombre mood. 

The Titans of the forest stood: 

While up above the timber lines 

His sunlit brow in beauty shines; 

That brow that stood serene, sublime, 

Despite the spoiling hand of time — 

A monarch, by ages undefiled — 

Ere man had trod the western wild. 

But while I gazed the light had fled. 

And sombre hues had crowned his head. 

I stood in silent thought profound. 

Till twilight let her curtains down. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 

And in the eastern sky afar 
She pinned them with a shining star. 
Then all was silent, hushed and still, 
And darkness shrouded plain and hill: 
And night her sable m.-intle hurled 
In peace around a sleeping world. 



In Memory of My Old Saddle Horse, Ourley. 

Pause stranger, here, with feelings kind. 

With reverence this ruin scan; 
It once was clothed with life divine, 

The noblest, truest friend of man 

Farewell, old horse, thy race is run. 
No more on earth thy form is seen; 

Thy bones lie mouldering in the sun, 
To feed the flowers and grasses green. 

None claim exemption from thy lot, 
Hul all to fate's decree must bow. 

To sleep in death and be forgot. 
The fate of all that's living now% 

As time rolls on, the fair, the brave. 
Must sleep in death by fate's decree; 

The king, the monarch and the slave. 
Must share their humble bed with thee. 

The vain and haughty sons of men. 

The proud imperious lords of birth. 
Must pass away at fate's command, 

And mingle with their mothes earth. 

Thus time rolls on an endless chain. 
While youth and age must pass away; 

Then why should man be proud and vain. 
Wlio's life is but a summer's da3^ 



POEM8 OF IDAHO. 21 



Charles Bradlangh, the English Freethinker. 

I Charles Bi-adlaugh was born in 18:53 and dierl January 30, I.Siil, 
the following' being written shoitly after. He wa^s a noted member 
of Parliament and wi-ote the '•Impeachment of the Hoiise of Bruus- 
wirk." He was a piominent social refonner but vigorous anti- 
socialist.] 

Across thf wide ocean a wailing sound comes, 

A hero has fallen in battle array; 
Lower the flag to half mast, muffle the drums. 

For the Champion of Freedom who's passing away. 

A braver and truer the world hath not known: 
A foe to oppression, and tyrant's stern might: 

With his weapons of reason the foe was o'erthrown. 
Like a giant in the arena, 1. ■ stood in the fight. 

Long years he has battled for freedom and right: 
With justice and truth like a bright sword of flame. 

He stood with his face to the foe in the fight, 
Never quailing before their false heroeaof fame. 

No bribery or threats of the foemen could conquer 
Our chami^ion of justice and truth in the fight; 

And millions unbound will rejoice that the hero 
Stood firm in defence of their freedom and right. 

No monument's needed to mark where he slumbers: 
His memory's embalmed in the hearts of the world, 

He'll live in the future through ages unnumbered: 
His banner of justice can never be furled. 

Farewell, noble Champion, thy deeds are immortal, 
They shine like a star on the records of time; 

The hand of the tyrant can never efi'ace them; 
Thy life was a struggle, heroic, sublime. 

Thy name will be honored through ages unnumbered 
By the champions of fre-dom, truth, justice and 
■ light; 

A beacon to guide us till tyrany slumbers. 

And freedom shall conquer the world for the right. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 



When truth and justice shall conquer the nations. 

When tyrany's minions from earth shall be hurled: 
Thy name shall be honored in every station. 

Thy deeds, like a rainbow, encircle the world. 



I'm Growing Old. 

I'm growing old, I'm growing old, 

Oh, would J were a boy again, 
To sit by mother as of old, 

And listen to the soft refrain 
That from her sacred lips would fall 

In melody to bless us all. 

To hear the lullaby once more 
That softly like the sunsliine fell 

Around our lives in days of yore, 
To tell the household all was well, 

To soothe the boy's peaceful rest 

That sweetly slumbered on her breast. 

Oh mother dear, the years seem long. 
And life is loosing half its charms; 

Oh could I hear again thy song 
And sweetly slumber in th,y arms I 

Then wake to meet thy loving smile, 

That soothed and blessed Lhy weary child. 

To see thy smiles, to hear thy voice, 

That haunts me still in manhood's prime. 

Would make my weary soul rejoice; 
To linger on the verge of time. 

To listen to the heavenly strain, 
And live my boyhood o'er again. 

To hear once more my father's voice. 

That ever sought our lives to cheer; 
Whose kindness made our hearts rejoice. 

Who watched our steps with tender care, 
Who taught that honor, truth and right 

Should be our guide both day and night. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 2H 

But they have passed beyond our sight, 
No more their voices greet our ears. 

In memory's tablets pure and bright. 
Their sacred image still appears 

A beacon light to guide our wdy, 
Along life's journey day by day. 

I rften wander back again 

In memory to my childhood home. 

In thought I listen to the strain 

That filled the room from base to dome, 

With melody and words of cheer. 
That banished sorrow, hate and fear. 

Perliaps I'll wander back some day 

To see the home I dearly prized. 
Ere fate decreed that I should stray 

Far from Willamette's sunny skies, 
To see the graves that hold in trust 

Father and mother's sacred dust. 



A Legend of the Seven Devils. 

iThe following relates to past history of the Seven Devils 
section and will be leadily under.-tood by those acquainted with the 
camp's career. At first some hesitancy was felt in inserting it. on 
account of the delicate references contained, but it is Mr. .Johnson's 
production not the publisher's. | 

There were some men of great renown, 
Came from the north to look around 
To see if copper could be found. 

To make a show 
Sufficient for them to settle down 

In Idaho. 

They found a camp they thought would pay: 

The Seven Devils, so they say; 

They marked them for their lawful prey. 

And then began 
To teach the miners to obey 

At their command. 



4 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

Tliey thought, as the}- were men of fame. 
They'd try their little freeze-out game. 
And keep the camp back all the same, 

And get their grip 
Upon the miners' richest claims, 

Then make them skip. 

P>ut, strange, no matter how they'd squeeze. 
The working miner would not freeze. 
But worked his mine and lived with ease 

From year to year; 
And would not bow, these lords to please, 

fn want or fear. 

But Yankee Doodle came around; 
He saw that copper had been found. 
In heaps and heaps upon the ground, 

The ore lay: 
The Yankees thought, with judgment sound. 
The thing would pay. 

And now, the northern nabob's fate 
Is sealed, since Idaho's a state; 
They stuck their shovels in too late 

To make it pay. 
The men of wealth from Yankee state 

Have come stay. 

The northern nabobs are no good, 
They'll hire men to work a road. 
At wages that would starve a toad, 

Tliey pay in check. 
That's worth, if taken by the load, 

Six bits a peck. 

Montana take the curses back. 

And keep the d d. infernal pack, 

They every noble impulse lack. 

That makes a man: 
They labor rob, with worthle^ss checks. 

Whene'er thev can. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 

A man wlio's deeiiu'd a iiiilli()iiair(\ 

Who, in makiuii' chan.iic would split a liaiiv 

And on a railroad bum his fare 

Is df\ilisli m<-an: 
And none who believe in acting fair. 

The curse would screen. 

And now farewell to all such men. 
To wish them well, would be a sin. 
Because the^y never fail to skin 

T'he poor and weak; 
The means they use to gain their ends. 

Would shame a sneak. 



The World's Needs. 

The world's in need of men of brain, 
AVho in th(^ right will ne\er falter; 

Who honor's record will not stain. 
Xor bow before tin' mystic altar. 

Who will not bow b^'fore a throne, 
Nor tremble at a monarch's nod: 

Who dare assert his soul's his own. 
Xor fear the tyrant's chastening rod. 

Who stands erect in manhood's prime. 

With justice, like a sword aflame. 
To drive the tyrant's lying brood, 

Back to the source from whence it came. 

Who grasps the truth wherever found. 

And waves its standard in the air; 
Who tramples falsehood's minions down. 

And lifts the weak with tender care. 

And women true, beside the men. 
As mothers, daughters, sisters, wife. 

Should stand his help, and dearest friend 
Through all the changing scenes of life. 



I'OKMS OF IDAHO. 

And tliey should surely undersr-and 

That he ilth, and love is worth their strife, 

And never iirasp the deathly hand 
That fashion reaches for their life. 

Hnt dress for beauty, e ise and grace, 
For health, that with the others vie: 

That love may sliine from every face, 
That joy may sparkle in the eye. 

We need the heroine who's true 

To noblest thoughts that fill the mind: 

Who scorns dame fashion's tyrant crew. 
Nor kneels at Mother Grundy's shrine. 

Who stands erect with love-lit eye 

To search Dame Nature's secret store: 

With freedom scan the earth and sky, 
And wisdom's paths of life explore. 

If such their banner would unfurl. 

The brave and true would rally to it, 
And tyrany from the earth be hurled. 

Then all would be the better for it. 



Thd G-rave of the Stranger. 

I About two years ngo three strang'ei's on their way to Seven 
Devil.-!, canipe I ou Lick Creek. One ieli ill anl the other two took 
hiiiitoa house near by, gathered up their outfit, left the locality 
anil returneJ no ino're. M.-. John-^on wa.s pasBlng- soon after and his 
.■vttention wa; callel to the stranger, who was dying. Thei-e being 
no burial gi-juni there they laid the de.ad man to rest out in the 
hills south of the crossing of Lick Creek. J 

Pause, traveler, a moment in passing this spot. 
The mortal remains of a stranger lie here; 

His name and his memory will soon be forgot, 
Hy all tile vast millions that people this sphere. 

Deserted by comrades who should have remained 

Uy his side in the hour of distress. 
When lonely and sad he was tortured by pain, 

A stranger alone in the west. 



P0P:MS of IDAHO. 'J< 

But his troubles liave passed and he quietly slee[)S. 

Alone where the wild flowers bloom; 
No kindj-ed was near by liis coffin to wet^^) 

And lay him to rest in his tomb. 

But the hand of the stranger has laid him away. 

Where the wild flowers will aiuiually wave; 
Where tlie wild birds will warble iheir musical lay. 

While he quietly sleeps in his grave. 

Farewell to the stranger, and calm be his sleep. 
No monument marks where his ashes repose; 
But wild flowers in springtime tiieir vigils will keep, 
And winter will mantle his tomb with its snows. 



Oau This Be All. 

1 sat one day in thought profound. 

Alone witiiin a silent room, 
jM}- mind unruffled by a sound. 

I strcive in vain to pierce the gloom. 
That shrouded like a funeral pall. 

The future destiny of all. 

It seemed when death my form enfolds. 

And I of life shall be bereft, 
No ray of hope could I behold 

Beyond the borderland of death; 
But all was dark, no signs appear. 

The life and hope of man to cheer. 

While thus in meditative thought. 

Alone I sat within the room, 
A ray of light my vision caught, 

That seemed to pierce the midnight gloom; 
This ray of radiance seemed to spread 

Till all the yloom of night had fled. 



rOEMS OF IDAHO, 

Within those lucid beams, so bright, 
A lovely babe, with SLinn.Y curls, 

Danced in the golden ra\'S of light, * 
A bud to bloom and bless the world: 

A mother's love its radiance shed 
Around this lovely beings liead. 

The mother's heart-strings seemed to twine 
Around this little fairy's form; 

ThH thought alone, within her mind. 
To shield its tender life from harm; 

And on life's journey' guard its way 
From sin and sorrow day by day. 

I looked again; The mother sat 
Beside a couch, to weep and moan. 

For death had nipped the tender flower. 
Ere it on earth had fully blown; 

Then all her joys of life had fled, 
Or withered with her sacred dead. 

I saw her clasp the lifeless form 
In sorrow to her aching breast. 

As though to shield it from all harm, 
And guard once more its peaceful rest. 

I gazed upon its funeral pall. 
And then I asked, Can this be all? 

1 looked once more; The picture changed. 

A lovel.y maid, with beauty rare, 
In all the nobler graces trained. 

Was sporting in the balmy air: 
Her life all love, without a blight; 

Her step was joyous, quick and light. 

Around her life the flowers of love 
By friends and relatives were strewn: 

The golden sunbeams from above, 
Fell softly 'round her peaceful home: 

And all was joy and love and light. 
Within their home both day and night. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. "29 

I looked again: ^Vith fevered brow 

Upon a couch the maiden la,y. 
Wliile lovino- friends surround her now, 

To watch the life tidf ebb away: 
Feebler and shorter comes the breath, 

Till life is swallowed up in death. 

And then the sobs, and mournful sounds 
Of grief — hopeless, despairing wail 

Of broken hearts — and sad despair 
Rose upward on the evening gale; 

No star of hope their vision guides 
Beyond the shore of death's dark tide. 

I saw them kiss the lips of clay 

That once had wreathed with jo}' and mirth: 
I saw them lay the form awa3\ 

To mingle with its mother earth; 
I heard their prayers, their wailing call. 

And then I asked, Can this be all? 

Again I saw a sprightly youth. 
Beloved by all within his sphere; 

A mother's hope of love and truth; 
A father's pride and faithful care. 

Along 3'outh's joyous happy road. 
With aspiraiions high he strode. 

But ere he reached the noon of life. 

His sudden death his friends deplore; 
Disease had checked his manly strife; 

I saw him fall to rise no more; 
I saw decay his form enthrall. 

And then I asked, Can this be all'.'' 

Again I saw a lovely form; 

An aged matron, crowned with .years, 
Her husband's hope in adverse storms; 

Her childrens" guide in joy and tears; 
Her life a song of joy and love, 

As bright as sunbeams from above. 



ilO POEMS OF IDAHO, 

lUit lo, the scene is changed: Once more 
That life of love and jo}' has tied. 

With millions that have oone before; 
She sleeps with the unnumbered dead. 

I heard the orphans' wailing call, 
And then I asked. Can this be all? 

Again I saw the man of years, 

Strong in his love of human kuid; 

Who lifts the fallen, drys their tears, 
And helps to make their lives sublime; 

His life a pleasant murmuring stream. 
That sparkles in the sun's bright beams. 

I saw his form of life bereft, 

No trace of love and joy was there; 

Pierced through by death's relentless shaft, 
All melted into viewless air; 

I saw them fade beyond recall, 
Again I asked. Can this be all? 

But while I mused upon the scene, 
Appeared a lovely vision grand. 

Across death's dark and turbid stream 
I saw the flower}' summer land. 

From those I thought beyond recall, 
The answer came, It is not all. 

1 saw beyond the stream of death. 
Where friends and relatives had passed; 

I heard their voices, soft and low; 
They rose above the waves at last, 

To tell us death is but ihe door 
That leads us to the liowery shore. 

I heard their music's grandest strain. 
And listened still, with bated breath; 

I heard the soft and grand refrain 
That swept across the tide of death, 

To tell us that life's bud will bloom 
Beypnd the cold and silent tomb. 



POKMS OF IDAHO. 31 

For love immortal cannot die, 

Hut still continues to expand; 
From earth it reaches to the sky. 

To lead us to the summer land; 
To meet again our friends above, 

To dwell in homes of light and love. 

The grandest man the world has known, 
Has said, and with his noblest breath: 

'I'll hope and believe_in life bejond 

While love shall kiss the lips of dealh: 

If love immortal can not die. 

To kill that hop^ T need not try." 

For love will hover round the dead, 

And kiss the very lips • f clay; 
Will guard with care the lonel}" bed: 

Till life shall cease and pass away; 
Ikit love will live in spirit life, 

Beyond these scenes of earthly strife. 

It is not all. Not even fate. 

Could be so cruel in its strife, 
To rob us of the love and hope 

That gilds for all another life; 
Life where all can taste the bliss, 

A recompense for living this. 



A Kough Outside No Sign of Depravity. 

The brightest gems are often found 
In uncouth dress beneath the ground. 
And flowers of rarest beauty stand 
Surrounded by the desert sand. 
Beneath a rough exterior part 
May often throb the purest heart: 
The siren's smile, with winning grace. 
May shine in beauty from the face. 
While from within the heart may spring. 
The slanderer's dart and poisoner's sting 



32 P()p:ms ov idaho. 

A Trip to Eapid River, 

iTheve is scaroelj' a note.l cainp on the west coast but has its 
song; and iii 1892, »'hen the copper and gold discovei-ies \ve:e lirst 
niaiie on Rapid Kiver, it was thougiit that a gieat inish wonl.l 
immediately follow, as the song- conveys. The i;iolation ot the 
district has kept the camp back, but theie is time yet i'oi- it to come 
out. The song give.; a very giaphic idea of a paity of western 
mineis hastening in to a new discovery, and the experiences they 
undergo.] 

It was on the twenty-fifth of March, eighteen 

hundred and ninety-two, 
There met in Council Valley a jolly mining crew: 
Thre^^ of them from the Webfoot State, the other 

three, we know, 
Had lived for many years within the State of Idaho. 

chorus: 
You hear of Rapid River! You take the golden 

fever I 
Got a pretty girl at home? Go right away and 

leave her; 
Saddle up your old cay use, and through the valley 

go it"; ^ 

And if you strike a good thing let everybody 

know it. 
We were bound for Rapid River, we scarcely had 

a dime: 
It was just before the rush began, the weather was 

sublime: 
Hut now the snow is melting fast, the mud is to 

our knees; 
Ik'fore we reached the camp that night I thought 

we'd surely freeze. 
Chorus:— Y^ou hear of Rapid River, etc. 
We reached the Salmon Meadows, the snow was 

very deep; 
The Webfooters took a cut-off, which almost made 

them weep; 
They'd travelled many hundred miles and at a great 

expense, 
And in the Salmon Meadows had to coon a barbed 

wire fence. 
Chorus:— You hear of Rapid River, etc. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 3H 

Then down the Salmon Meadows, throug-h mud, ice 

and snow; 
The road turned out so very bad we had to travel 

slow. 
AVe reached a Mr. Campbell's, a place we all admire: 
^Ve found a spot where we could squat and build 

a small campfire. 

Chorus: — You hear of Rapid River, etc. 

Early in the morninii' the earth was white with snow. 
l)Ut soon the rain began to fail and that was forced 

to go: 
The drizzling rain and chilling blasts made every 

member shiver. 
I>ut nothing could our zeal surpass; hurrah for 

Rapid River! 

Chorus: — You hear of Rapid River, etc. 

Karly after breakfast we lojided up our train, 

In disregard of wind and storm we hit the road 

again; 
AVe crossed the Little Salmon from east to western 

side: 
W(^ crossed Round Yalley on a charge and hit the 

mountain side. 

Chorus: — You hear of Rapid RiveV, etc. 

Before we reached the summit we had a small 

mishap; 
Though nothing: very serious, 'twas strange to 

Webfoot chaps; 
The snow was four to six feet deep; with all our 

care and skill. 
One pack horse slipped upon the trail and tumbled 

down the hill. 

Chorus: — You hear of Rapid River, etc. 



;U POKMS OF IDAIIO. 

At lust we crossed tlie suinmit: we did not this 

regret; 
For still the rain was falling fast and everything- 

was wet. 
AVe reached the Little Salmon, w^e left the snow 

behind; 
Here wood and water's plenty, but grass w^e could 

not find. 
Chorus: — You hear of Rapid River, etc. 

Our ponies all seemed restless, they did not like the 

camp; 
The grass so short and very scarce, they thought 

they'd take a tramp; 
They waked us from our slumbers before the break 

of day; 
We had to tie the leaders up and fed them on stake 

hay. 
Chorus: — You hear of Rapid River, etc. 

We packed up in the morning and left that camp 

with speed; 
We had to camp quite early, to let our ponies feed: 
The wind and snow and rain that night made every 

muscle quiver, 
Rut still we kept the music up; hurrah for Rapid 

River: 
Chorus: — You hear of Rapid River, etc. 

l)Ut still some distance we must go before we 

reached the camp. 
Across the mountain through the snow, ten miles 

we had to tramp, 
Hut courage boys, the end is near, and fortune will 

deliver 
All those wdio scale the mountain peaks that 

border Rapid River, 
Chorus: — You hear of Rapid River, etc. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 85 

And now we've reached the i^olden shore; the mines 

are rich, no doubt. 
A\'('"]l run our tunnels, sink our shafts, and take 

the ore out, 
Then wlien we make our fortunes we'll end this 

toil and strife. 
We'll go back home, we'll wed our girls, and live a 

happy life. 
Chorus: — You hear of Rapid River, etc. 



Grirls I Cannot Understand. 

i've liyed in almost every clime. 

I've seen the various tribes of eartli. 
I've heard the grand old ocean roar, 

I've watched the cyclone from its birth, 
Their history's all at my command, 
But girls I cannot understand. 

I've read the history of the world. 

Of wars that drenched the land in blood; 

I've seen all nation's flags unfurled. 
I've studied deep the Word of God, 

I've seen the rocks along life's strand, 

But girls I cannot understand. 

To learn the history of the stars 
That circles round the orb of da}'. 

To weigh correct the planet Mars, 
Or analyze the Sun's bright t-aj, 

Is play to what I have on hand 

When girls I try to understand. 

I cannot tell why Maud or May, 
Or Lucy greets me on the street 

With smiles that dim the sun's bright ray. 
And voice of music, low and sweet: 

That thoughts of purest love inspire. 

That almost sets my blood on fire 



I'OKMS OF IDAHO. 

Tomorrow comes, we meet a^ain, 
A frown has settled o'er the face, 

That chills the blood within my veins. 
And makes me long for death's embrace 

That cancels every hope of joy, 

And brightest dreams of love destroy. 

Yet I have struggled long and liard 
To solve this riddle of the fair. 

Till hope, that promised this reward, 
Has vanished in the ambient air: 

So I must yield to fate's command. 

For girls I cannot understand. 



The Seven Devil Miner's Bear Fight. 

One morning in the month of August. 

Early while the air was cool. 
High up in the Devil mountains 

Wandered I in seach of gold. 

Strolling onward, much delighted 
With the rugged grandeur there, 

I in sudden horror sighted 
Up the hill a grizzly bear. 

Oil, I had the queerest feeling. 

Must have turned a little pale, 
When 1 saw the grizzly demon 

Sitting on his stubby tail. 

And I knew he saw the motion 
That was quickly made by me 

AYhen I, w'ith a sudden notion. 
Dodged behind a giant tree. • 

He my hiding place detected; 

On he came with giant stride; 
With his battle flag erected. 

Thundering down the mountain side 



POEMS OF IDAHO 

Wlicn I saw his moiUh wide open, 

And )iis fiery eye balls glai-e. 
I Ihoughl the Seven Devil miner's 

Time had come to sayjiis prayrr. 

Then I beo-an to scratch the gravel. 

In a race with danger rife, 
As 'round and "round the tree we tra\el. 

He for ,^riib and I for life. 

While the war was thus progressing. 
Every nerxe was brought to play. 

Still my mind was busy guessing 
Which at last would win the da v. 

When the bear would seem to leave me. 

Dismal tlioughts would fill my mind, 
I knew whe-ii spaci' iu front was widening 

It was shortening up behind. 

Then with a superliuman effort 

On I bounded iu the charge. 
With despair and desperation 

Fell upon the bear's rear guard. 

Then he surprised, and I deliiihted, 
Bruin thought to change his race. 

Demoralized and much affrighted, 
Lowered his flag and left the place. 

Out of breath and much exhausted. 

On the battlefield I lay. 
Satisfied to be the victor. 

Happy thus to win the day. 

Slowl,y I drew myself together. 

On this bloodless battle plain. 
Gathering up the scattered fragments 

AVandered back to camp again. 

Although I'm fond of meat for dinner. 

I would Avish it understood, 
That for the Seven Devil miner 

Grizzly benr meat is no good. 



rOEMS OF [DAHO. 

Advice Tor All. 

The man who in his manhood's prime. 
Can in such actions pie isiire find, 
As threshini^ children for no crime, 

Is but a brute; 
Although dressed up with feathers fine 

And jray surtout. 

His brutal instincts base the swa,y. 
And rules his actions day by day I 
Far from his home, 'tis safe to say, 

Joy lights her lamps, 
Nor stoops to shed one golden ray 

Upon such scamps. 

Around such home, the hell of strife 
Clouds every golden ray of life, 
Surrounds with gloom both child and wife 

As dark as night. 
So dark that angels curse the life 

At such a sight. 

"Tis said, from Heaven— God's dwelling place- 

His eye can pierce eternal space; 

He knows tlie thoughts of every race, 

Of every soul. 
Then why endow with life and grace 

Such cursed mould. 

Whose only joy is being mean, 
Whose aciions would disgrace a fiend. 
Who owns no blush of shame, to screen 

His mean desire 
That like the monster Polypheme, 

His soul inspire. 

Oh mother earth! Take back the dust 
That thou unfortunately cursed. 
When on humanity, you thrust 

Such human mold, 
To strangle joy at its birth, 

In snaky folds. 



^POEMS OK IDAHO. 8!) 

Thov live licic but to torture lile. 

To shroud in gloom both child and wiTc 

To foster trouble, care and strife, 

Their aim from birth 
To make a hell, to toi'ture life 

Upon the earth. 

Then take it back, and if thou must 
Endow again wiih life such dust, 
.lust make a dog, for then it must 

Have better sense. 
And not all love and joy curse 

At thy expense. 



Sunrise at Seven Devils. 

One morning ere the dawn of day 
Had come to chase the night away, 
I rose from sleep, with hasty stride 
To climb ihe rugged mountain side. 
To view with pride the grand disphiy 
When Sol should usher in the day. 
The mcon had sunk behind the hill. 
And darkness reigned in silence still: 
No clouds were floating in the air: 
JUit all was calm, serene and fair. 
The stars looked down calm and serene 
Upon a M'orld of evergreen, 
While all around in sombre shades 
Stood nature's lovel}' colonades. 
The giant mountains, crowned with snow, 
Looked on a sleeping world below^ 
Far in the east there greets my sight, 
Faint streakings of the morning light. 
Slovvl}' changing to silvery gray. 
The monarch's herald of the day; 
x\nd as the streaks become more bright 
Towards the west recedes the night. 
The stars with all their brilliant fire 
liefore the monarch's face retire. 



40 



Slowly tlie ^'ray was clianged to red, 

Till' crown that decks the monarch's head. 

And while I ga/ed with eager eyes, 

I saw the day king''s cliariot rise; 

Above the liills witli Mag unl'urled,' 

He comes to rouse a sleeping world. 

Some to renew the strife for gain, 

Some to a life of toil and pain, 

Some to misfortune, vice and crime, 

Some to improve tlie present time 

B.y scattering sunsliiiie <n the road 

To help the weary bear iheir load; 

And teach the people life is worth 

The li\'ing here upon the eartli. 

I watched the orb of day arise 

I'p through the blue ethereal skies; 

I saw his golden beams impart 

I^ife, light and beauty to each heart. 

'^J'he feathered songsters wake from sleep. 

And tlirough their leafy bowers peep; 

They shake the dewdrop from their wing, 

Tlien rise, the monarch's praise to sing. 

The herds rise from their beds again 

To wander over liill and plain. 

The nimble deer from where they lay 

Rise u{) and lightly bound away. 

Brushing the dewdrops fr(mi the grass 

As swiftly o'er the hills they pass. 

The dewdrops sparkling in the light 

With many colors charm the sight; 

Pierce. 1 b.y the morning sun's bright ray. 

Slowly they fade and pass away. 

And flowers of every hue are found 

In bud and blossom all around. 

And wliile I gazed with great clelight. 

On lovely scenes that ch rm the sight. 

Far down beneath the sunny skies. 

From vales below there seemed to rise 

An ocean grand, who's waters lave 

The mountain sides with crested wave. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 41 

That now and then would float away 
Disolving in the sun's bright ray. 
While here and t lie re the mountain's crest 
Nestled like islands on its breast. 
Slowly the ocean seemed to rise 
Toward the blue and donned skies; 
While one by one those isU^s of o^reen, 
Submerged by waves, no more are seen. 
Till not an island could be traced 
Within ihis mystic desert waste. 
The ocean like a mirror <]^leams 
And sparkles m the sun's soft beams. 
I watched the silvery sheen arise 
From craggy peak to sunny skies; 
Vanishing in the day God's ray 
The mimic ocean passed away. 
Then all was clear, no clouds were seen, 
The sun looked down, calm and serene, 
On hills and plains, with beauty rife. 
A world aglow with light and life. 



Awake . 

Hark I hear ye not the groans of the past as they 
mingie 

With the savage's shout, and the maniac's laugh. 
The shrieks of despair, that in agony tremble 

On lips that are pleading in Mercy's behalf ? 

The night has been long, and the darkness appal- 
ling. 

But slowlv the morning light's gleaming apace; 
Truth. Justice and Mercy in triumph are calling; 

Awake to yourr dut3^ ye slumbering race! 

Slowly, but surely, the march of progression 
Keeps step to the music of science and truth; 

While the myths of the past that fancies created 
Are passing away, like visions of youth. 



42 rOEMS OF IDAHO. 

The brave and the true are unfurling- our banner. 

Come rally beneath it, 3'e children of toil; 
Our foemen, the tyrants, and usury leeches, 

Are robbino- the nation, and cursing the soil. 

Look now at old India, the land of the ancients; 

Her daughters degraded, her sons are enslaved; 
i>y the minions of wealth, they were forced to 
surrender 

The toil of their hands to the robber and knave. 

Old Egypt, the land that once glittered in splendor. 
Surpassing in richness the nations of earth. 

Was doomed to decay, and her wealth to surrender. 
The moment the usury robbers had birth. 

And Greece, the fair land of the statesman and hero; 

The land of the classics, the home of the brave. 
Was robbed by her tyrants and usury grabbers; 

Her glory has faded, her sons are enslaved. 

Old England, still later, her freedom surrendered; 

Triumphant in war. she invited defeat 
And slavery and toil to the nation's defenders, 

When she licensed the robbers of Thr<-ad needle 
street. 

Shall Americans, with such examples before them, 
Still vote for the tyrant, and rivet their chains 

On the limbs of children, their sons and daughters. 
Until not a vestige of freedom remains? 

No! No! Let us rally, like soldiers of freedom; 

The Knights and farmers have issued the call; 
Our motto should be, while our banner is waving. 

•'United we stand, but divided we tall." 

Then rally, my brothers, let discord depart; 

In harmony work for the sake of our cause. 
Like the heros of old we'll unite hand and heart, 

And the tyrants dethrone with their robber laws. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 43 

A Eeply to a Critic. 
What ails you now, you old galoot, 
With pen and ink lo black my snoot. 
Because that romance did not suit 

Your giant mind. 
To lash my back beyond dispute, 

You feel inclined. 

Now I'll explain, so you may know, 
I aimed at neither friend nor foe; 
My arrow barbed, I bent my bow, 

And turned it loose. 
And in its grand aerial fight, 

It winged a goose. 

The bird, it fluttered to the ground. 

And in a circle flopped around. 

With broken wing, the game was found 

Upon the shore; 
It hissed and hissed, and strutted around. 

But did no more. 

The wounded bird was forced to stay 
Upon the ground from day to day, 
It could no longer soar away 

Above the earth. 
And cive the world a grand display 

Of noble birth. 

Just like the bird, some men are found; 
They soar too high above the ground: 
Their head gets light, they whirl around, 

And come to earth, 
And then by all, the game is found 

Of little worth. 

Keep cool, my friend, don't soar too high 
Bevond the reach of mortal eye; 
To watch your light I will not try. 

My vision fails. 
You're lost to sight within the sky, 

All but the tail. 



44 I'OKMS OK roAiio. 

Wliy you defy all modern rule. 
With pen deliberate and cool. 
To write j'oursell" a natural I'c^ol. 

I can't make out. 
You've proved yourself a rich man's tool 

Beyond a doubt. 

I hope you'll come to earth again. 
And with us here awliile remain; 
I'll try my best to entertain 

You as a guest. 
Although I may not all explain, 

I'll do my best. 

The Journey of Life. 

One evening alone, on the the crest of a mountain 

Away from the sounds of trouble and strife, 
Keposing awhile, by a beautiful fountain, 

I thought on the toils and struggles of life. 
My mind wandered back to the days of my ciiildhood 

When care was unknown, and pleasure was rife. 
When jo.y and gladness dispelled every sadness, 

And I had just started on the journey of life. 

My mother sat by in tiie twilight of evening. 

My father had finished the toils of the day, 
jNly brothers and sisters were laughing and singing 

In joy and gladness, at innocent play; 
The clock, in its place on the mantel, was standing 

As faithful as ever in marking the time; 
I stood as of yore in the twilight of evening'. 

And listened again to its silvery chime. 

The babe in its cr.adle was laughing and cooing; 

Old puss in the corner was taking his rest; 
My mother was quietly knitting or sewing. 

As guardian of youth she was ever the best; 
The dog on the porth, our faithful companion*. 

As eager as ever to follow our trail; 
Heguarded our footsteps when danger surrounded — 

Old Tige, the hero of many a tale. 



rOEMS OF IDAHO. • 45 

I wandered ag;iiii o'er the scenes of my chihlliood. 

1 drank from th<' spriii"' that ^uslied from the liili. 
Thro" orchard, meadow and iireen. leafy wildwrx d 

That skirled the banks of the beautiful rill. 
Again with my youtliful companions I trundled 

To school, where the teacher presided in state: 
With a mark of dishonor or a. place in the corner 

For unlucky scholars arriving- loo late. 

But time like the tide rolls onward forever. 

And youth must depart like a beautiful dream: 
My school days are over, thn cable is severed. 

My boat is afloat on a turbulent stream; 
With eager delight the sails kiss the breeze. 

Whil(^ sailing' in search of some coveted prizf-: 
While the star of my hope keeps luring me onward. 

Eluding- my grasp while it dazzels my eyt-s. 

But still I pursue with courage undaunted. 

Determined to C(tnquer or fall in the strife: 
By riches and fame my vision is liaunted, 

As onward I sail in the journey of life. 
How few of my hopes ever reaches fruition. 

They fall, and their rubbish encumbers the around: 
I le;.rn by experience and knowdedge acquired. 

'Tis an ignis fatuus alluring me on. 

Gaining wisdom by age. no longer I'm troubled 

By the glitter of wealth, or the bauble of fann : 
True happiness dwells in the humblest cottage. 

Where love is the tinder that kindles the flame. 
But still I move on in the \vorld"s great procession. 

Engaged in the battle of toil and of strife. 
Till I meet on the way some cherished cmiianion. 

To love and join hands in tlie journ<n- of life. 

But where are the friends of my youthful devotion. 

That stood by my side when the journey begun. 
They have left the procession, they've laid down 
their armor. 

Their iourney is endi'd, their labor is done. 



4() roKMS OF IDAHO. 

I'll sei.' them no more in tlie marching procession, 
No moi-e in tha battles of t.)il anrl of strife, 

Tiieir visions ot childhood liave reached to fruition, 
ril meet them no more on the journey of life. 

Altlio" I'm bereft of the friends of my childhood, 

And kindred companions are scattered abroad; 
While \outhful ambitions, with high aspirations, 

Are bravely treading the paths I have trod. 
Thougli fortunes may fail us and troubles assail us, 

Thougli torn and wrecked in the tempest of strife. 
Though oceans divid' us, with affection toguide us. 

We'll meet at the end of the iourney of life. 

And when I have passed each stnge of this journe.y 

Alloted to man by nature's deer, e; 
Decrepit and old, b,y .youth Tin forsaken. 

My limbs growing feeble, f long to be free, 
The day has been long. I am careworn and wear}', 

1 am tired of trouble, contentions and strife. 
At peace with the world, I'll lay down my armor. 

And welcome tlie end to the journey of life. 



Ouddy Flour. 

I 111 ]8S!( the present ••I'icmeev KoHev Mills," owned )iy John 
( u I l.y, was an oKl stj^le burr mill and in that year he oliang-ed the 
plant to the roller pvoee-i-s. The following wa^i not written in an 
uutiieiidly si)i;it towards Mr. Cuddy, Imt as a farewell to the old 



I'm sitting on a mountain high. 
With blood and thunder in my eye, 
For VvKt been trying for an hour 
To bake a cake of Cuddy Flour. 
J^ut. damm the stuff, it will not rise, 
And that's wli} blood is in my eyes; 
It's not because the dough's not sour, 
For sour as hell is Cuddy Flour. 
In every shape I turn it round 
And bake the top and bottom brown; 



rOEMS OF IDAHO. "* ' 

Rut to my sorrow and surprise 
The cussed stutf will never rise. 
Rut 1 must eat the liorrid stuff, 
Aliliouo-ii the dose is devil isli tough: 
Oh! Cuddy, Cuddv. damn the luck. 
I have to eat your muck-a-muck. 
For eat or die is the motto here. 
But eat and die is what I fear; 
I only ate a little bit 
To trv what virtue was in it. 
It made mv stomach quail and quake 
To half digest the cursed cake. 
My temper got beyond control. 
And fiery torments racked my soul. 
My eyes grew red. my nose got blue. 
And misery pierced me through and through 
My nerves sot w«'ak, my stomach sour, 
And all from eating Cuddy Flour. 
And while it made me curse and damn. 
It almost burst my diaphragm. 
And aged rat crawled frt)m his hole, 
VVitli appetite beyond control; 
With famine on his visage writ. 
He thought he'd steal a little bit: 
He took a taste, then started back- 
He knew it when he smelt the sack. 
Though hard his lot. his fare was tough: 
He'd starve before he'd eat the stuif. 
Hut when the rat refused to eat, 
I knew the stuff was but a cheat. 
I sent some to a chemist wise 
To have the the compound analyzed. 
And now^ I give you his report. 
Recorded in the chemist s court: 
One-third was flour, another dirt, 
A little hair— bui that don't hurt— 
The other third composed to-wit: 
Of bran and shorts and millstone grit. 
And this, when made a little sour, 
C(nii(.Md the stutf called Cuddy Flour. 



-48 POK.MS OF IDAHO. 

Oh! Cuddy 1 Cuddy: who can tell 

How many souls you've sent to hell? 

They eat your Hour and then get mad. 

And curse and damn both good and bad. 

Willi stomacli sour and liver blue. 

They damn old Cuddy through and through 

Until their morals are all goi.e, 

And they to hell are rushing on, 

And never can throw on the brake 

This side the burning briinstune lake. 

Friend Cuddy when you die, 

Look- out for phantoms in the sky; 

They'll haunt you in your dying hour 

For slaying them with Cuddy Flour. . 

Your dying room forever crammed 

With leering ghosts and goblins damned, 

And each upon their ghostly backs 

Will carry one of Cuddy's sacks. 

To show to all wiihin tlieir power 

They died from eating Cuddy Flour. 

Our legislative sovereign power. 

Should frame some laws for Cuddy Flour; 

With every sack that left the mill 

Cudiiy should send a box of pills. 

It costs too much to buy the stuff. 

Then buy the pills to work it off. 

Where Cuddy Flour the b ead supplies, 

Fig Syrup is sure take a rise. 

Oh' Cuddy! Cuddy! best repent, 

Before you're to old satan sent. 

For first you know, all unwaies. 

You'll have to climb the golden stairs; 

And when you reach the Golden Gate, 

Old Peter, in his grand estate. 

Will meet you with a hickory club. 

And knock you down to Belzebub — 

Down there to wriggle, sweat and groan. 

Until you for your sins atone; 

Which will rt^piire ages of time 

To cancel such a mighty crime. 



rOEMS OF IDAHO. 41) 

I ate your flour, the vile compound, 
Until'my health was broken down; 
And then I quit a little while. 
And health returned in splendid style: 
And as I've gained my health and power, 
I bid farewell to Cuddy Flour. 



Keply to Mono Miner. 

I About the tinie'the preceding appeared the inin began turning 
out flour by the roMer process, and -Mono Miner," a writer in the 
••Idaho Citizen." after having tried some, took Mr. Johnson to task 
tor having delamed Cuddy's flour.] 

The '"Citizen"" of recent date 
Reports a miner's blest estate. 
He had been eating Cuddy flour 
That on his stomach did not sour. 
He said it was without alloy. 
It made good cake, and gave him joy; 
It made good bread, too; that is good. 
As bread's the kinc' of all our food. 
It gave him joy. and health to boot; 
Old King Dyspepsia had to scoot. 
When"er he saw the magic power 
Displayed in Cuddy's roller flour. 
The farmers, too, will hear the news 
With joy, as they will get their dues; 
Will sell their grain at liberal price. 
And in return get Hour that's nice. 
The Devils too. the news will hear. 
And joyously drop a friendly tear. 
To think that Cuddy's flour is good. 
And will promote their brotherhood. 
By routing all the ills of life. 
And blessiuiis shower on man and wife. 
The children, too. will cease to fret, 
When bread from Cuddy flour they get. 
If "Mono Miner" states the facts. 
About the flour and its effects, 
It surely will a blessing prove. 



50 POEMS OF IDAHO, 

And many ills of life remove. 

I cannot say the tiour is good, 

Or bad, or fit for healthy food; 

Or whether mixed, or whether clean, 

A sample I have not yet seen. 

But here I am compelled to say 

That "'Mono Miner" went estray. 

He said I did the flour defame, 

And call it every ugly name; 

•Twas not the fiour my dagger hit. 

Hut "bran and shorts and millstone grit, 

And other stuff mixed in the flour, 

That made my even temper sour. 

Although I'd rather praise than blame, 

No matter what the subject's name, 

And when I know the flour is good — 

By test is merit understood — 

ril wield my pen to help it rise 

In glowing tribute to the skies. 

Then come again my "Mono" friend, 

I'll read your piece "irom end to end: • 

Keep silent where I cannot mend. 

And draw the sting 
From out the bad; the good defend 

In everv thing. 



Cuddy Flour. No. 2. 

(When the "Reply to 'Mono Miner" " appeared Mr. Ciuldy sent 
Mr. .lohnsoii a sample sack, which called forth the following: I 

Friend Cuddy, now our troubles cease, 

And we henceforth can live at peace, 

The fiour I've tried from roller mill, 

In every instance fills the bill. 

No better flour was ever made 

Hy flouring mills of any grade. 

At first I felt a little shy— 

The same old brand had met my eye; 



l»()EMf< OF IDAHO. 51 

liut as the brand was "Cuddy's Best," 

I thouofht to eat, and take the risk. 

Hut still to doubt I felt inclined. 

As past experience filled my mind. 

Before I ate I though it best 

To try again the old rat test. 

I set the sack where the rat had made 

His regular evening promenade. 

The old cuss waddled from his den. 

And eyed the sack from end to end; 

He took a taste, then gave a squall, 

'Twas answered by rats, mice and all; 

They crowded round, with all their power. 

To get a taste of Cuddy flour. 

With sparkling eyes their lips they'd .smack. 

Then try to lug away the sack. 

But still in doubt, I thought it best 

To try again the' chemist's test; 

I sent some as I did before 

To have the chemist look it o'er, 

And tell, if it was in his power, 

The elements of this roller flour. 

The chemist, by his tests declares 

That in it he could find no hair; 

No dirt was found, no shorts, no bran. 

But flour, the purest in the land: 

As beautiful, as white, as clean 

As ever sifted through a screen 

When thus I'd sampled "Cuddy's Best," 

And found it always stood the test. 

The idea settled in m^' head 

To bake a cake, and try the bread. 

I mixed it up with great delight, 

The dough was beautiful and white; 

I set to bake; with eager eyes 

I saw the cake begin to rise; 

It shoved the lid clear ofi' the oven. 

And started up to roost in heaven; 

And when the cake was brown and done, 

I tried it. and 'twas number one. 



rOEMS OF IDAHO. 

With health and comfort it was rife. 
It proved the very staff of life. 
And now, friend Cuddy, let Old Nick 
And all the physic members kick; 
'Tis said the promise came from Heaven 
••Repent and ye shall be forgiven;" 
No predjudice shall move my pen. 
To skin a foe or boom a friend, 
And when the Hour is good withall 
I will say it tliough the heaven's fall; 
And now I say to one and all. 
Give Friend (buddy's mill a call. 
My word for it you'll ne'er repent. 
The money for the flour you spent. 
It will brace your nerves and make them strong, 
And life and happiness prolong. 
No family discord can arise 
Where this new flour the bread supplies; 
Hut peace, and happiness, and love, 
Descending from the realms above, 
Will shed their influence and power 
On all who use this roller flour. 
Friend Cuddy, when 3'ou come to dk'. 
And rise to mansions in the sky, 
I hope you'll read your title clear. 
And from old Satan's sweat house steer. 
Keep up your lick and make good flour, 
And in the land become a power 
For good that no one can deny. 
Although they search with evil eye. 
Such flour as this in every place 
Would sanctify the human race; 
Your customers would never cease 
To wave the olive branch of peace, 
And sing and shout with all their power, 
For roller mills and Cuddy Flour. 




POEMS OF IDAHO •')'^ 

If You Love Me, Tell Me So. 

When in spring the balmj^ breezes 

Kiss the mcnintains, phiins and hills. 
And the winter's icy fetters 

Leave the lakes and rippling rills; 
Amidst the tender leaves and grasses, 

Where the lovely May flowers blow, 
Kve this golden vision passes. 

If you love me, tell me so. 



When the sunshine's genily falling 

O'er the fields of waving grain, 
And the birds are sweetly calling 

To their mates in plaintive strain: 
When the fleecy clouds of evening 

Linger in the sunset's glow, 
Floating in their golden beauty, 

If you love me, tell me so. 



When the sered leaves are falling 

On the mountains, hills and plain. 
When the ripened fruits of Autumn 

Fill the land with joy again. 
When the chilling winds are swelling, 

That foretell the winter snow, 
When storm clouds hover round my dwelling, 

If you love me, tell me so. 

When December's icy crystals 

Glitter m the morning light. 
When the fleecy snows of winter 

Clothe the land in robes of white, 
When my soul to yours is calling 

While our hearts with love's aglow, 
When the gloom of night is falling. 

If you love me, tell me so. 



34 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

Tell me that you love me truly, 

Love me with a love divine. 
That your heart is most sincere, 

That it throbs alone for mine, 
That whatever fate befalls me, 

Whether joy, or weal, or woe, 
I will know that some one loves me. 

Loves me, for they told me so. 



The Murdered Bird— A Victim of Man's Cruelty. 

'Twas Sunday morn, the snow la}' deep. 

O'er mountain, valle^', hill and plain. 
And husbandmen their vigils keep, 

To see the spring return again. 

To note all signs that should appear 

To tell us winter must depart, 
That spring again will soon be here 

To gladden every heart. 

Up from the south a herald came 
To spread the news in songs of love. 

To tell us spring shall come again. 
And flowers bloom in shady grove. 

A songster of the feathered tribe. 
With sable breast and crimson wing: 

He came, our gloomy thoughts to chide. 
And sing to us the songs of spring. 

But ere this messenger of peace 
Had tuned his harp to songs of love, 

its life must cease, and we no more 
Shall hear it sing in shady grove. 

Sent by the cruel hand of man, 

The leaden bullet pierced its breast: 

It fluttered to the ground and died, 
Slain by those it came to bless. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 

And then more cruel 3et to see 
The little songster's lifeless form, 

Disrobed of all its brilliant hues, 

The sport of those who did the wrong, 

Farewell, sweet bird! No more thy notes 
Shall trill to love's inspiring strain; 

No more on airy wings shall float 

Thy form o'er mountain, hill and plain. 

No more we'll hear thy warbling note 
While perched upon the swinging limb; 

No more from out th}' little throat 
Shall trill thy morn or evening hymn. 

Although life is to thee denied, 

Although thy harp of love's unstrung. 

They shall not say that thou has died 
Unwept, unhonored and unsung. 

To the House Ply. 

Confound that cussed little fly, 

It's strange to see how hard he'll try 

To dip his wing within my eye, 

And raise a muss, 
And then away in safety fly, 

The little cuss. 

If I could get you by the wing 
Another song I'd maiie you sing; 
You pestering, little, buzzing thing. 

You vex my mind; 
To mash your head or break your wing, 

I feel inclined. 

Do you suppose that I can think 

While with your wing you make me blinl 

Then make my head a skating rink 

On which to run; 
If I could catch you there I think 

I'd spoil your fun, 



POEMS OP IDAHO. 

Old Uncle Toby must have been 
A saint, and free from every sin, 
When round his head you raised a din, 

And spoiled his nap; 
If not yourself, it was jour kin 

He did entrap. 
And when he had you in his claws, 
Without infringing nature's laws. 
He might have brought you to a pause 

In life's great race: 
And no more heard your cussed buzz 

Around his face. 
But then his saintly soul was touched 
When he had you in his clutch, 
Within his mind it was too much 

To spoil your fun: 
Of room the old saint had so much. 

He let you run. 
Now I would not your race despise. 
Nor be so very hard on flies. 
Or all your meaness advertise 

With patient care; 
If you would not dip in my eyes 

Or bite my ear. 
But I suppose you'll have your fun, 
You have since life's race first begun. 
And always come out number one 

In every clime. 
Where on all windows, cakes and pies. 

You leave your sign. 



Salubria's fire. 

[The flre which partiaUy destroyed the tlourishing little t( 
Salubria occurred on the evening of April 28, 1891. J 

Hark! hear the sounds, the lurid glare 
That bursts upon the midnight air! 
Startling the people far and near. 
Who wake from sleep with trembling fear, 



POKMS OF IDAHO. 

To learn with sad forebodings dire. 

Salubria City is on fire. 

The fire fiend in his wrath appears, 

And wealth, the toil of many years. 

Accumulated day by day, 

In heaps and smoldering ruins lay. 

'Twas on April the twenty -eighth, 

Some friends had met with joy elate, 

To list to music soft and sweet. 

And "chase the hours with fiying feet." 

Scarce dreaming in their great delight. 

What dire distress would close the night. 

Without, the wind in fretful gusts 

Upon the qiuet city bursts. 

The liall was shaken by the wind. 

The lamp swung to and fro within. 

When all at once the lamp gave way. 

Upon the lioor the fragments lay. 

The burning oil, a fiery sheet. 

Spread o'er the hall and round their feet. 

No power at hai.d could check the fiame. 

lUit onward like a fiend it came. 

The Idaho Citizen was first consumed 

With all the contents of the room. 

Then down the fiery demon swings 

Hearing destruction on his wines. 

Till Shaw's drug store with all its wealth, 

And drygoods, groceries none is left. 

The millinery store of Mrs. Shaw, 

That did the public custom draw. 

Was all consumed, no hand could save 

Those treasures from the fiery wave. 

Some seven thousand dollars 'tis said, 

Of wealth composed this fiery bed. 

Two thousand dollars was the whole 

Insurance on the same we're told. 

Hut still the work was not yet done. 

Destruction's fiery tide rolled on. 

Across the street the lurid fiame 

Like waves of liquid fire came. 



rOEMS OK IDAHO. 

Tlie fiery demon in his vvratli, 

Leaves desiruction in liis path. 

The Reynolds dwelling house complete. 

Was first consumed across tlie street, 

And of all its contents none were saved, 

They sunk beneath the fiery wave. 

The Keynolds hall is next on fire. 

Upward the flames rise higher and higher. 

The barn and blacksmith shop are doomed, 

And other buildings here consumed, 

With no insurance on the same. 

All wiped out by the lurid flame. 

Robbing the owners, so they say, 

Of wealth, the toil of many a dav. 

The fiery demon in his wrath 

Siwceps everything witiiin liis patli. 

The flames leap from the Reynolds hall 

And Wilson Bros, next must fall. 

No power could check the lurid tiame, 

As onward like a fiend it came. 

In thundering tones the flames arise. 

Upward toward the starry skies, 

And Wilson Bros.' mammoth store 

Is all consumed and is no more, 

While thirty thousand dollars worth 

Of wealth is swept from mother earth. 

Eleven thousand, so we learn. 

Insurance that was due the firm 

The balance we must here repeat 

Was Wilson lU-os.' loss complete. 

But here the demon's power is spent, 

l>afH(id at last he seems content 

To slowly yield liis might and power 

To men who faced tne fier}' shower: 

Who scorning danger iaced the fight 

And conquered by their skill and might. 

Unfed, the flames no longer rise 

In fiery billows to the skies, 

But slowly sank they down to rest 

Upon the ruin's glowing breast. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. o9 

While upward rises the victors' sliout 
'The Hames are checked and dying out." 
While sadness like a shadow falls 
Upon the hearts and minds of all, 
For fifty thousand dollars must 
Have perished in this holocaust. 
This wealth consumed is felt by all 
Throughout the land, both great and small, 
l^ut then we know what pluck will do. 
For men of nerve and women too. 
They'll scorn misfortune's withering blight 
And rise again to greet the light. 
With courage true they will recla:m 
The wealth they lost by fiery flame. 
Aijo young Salubiia yet will rise 
Upward to greet the sunny skies. 
And stand in nature's beauty blessed. 
The queen within the growing West. 

Olga. 

• l^a was a feniale Nihilist who <_'i>inniitteJ suici le rather than 
MiiKTto the MoMMiw police. 1 

Far in the east a monarch reigns, 

A tyrant who at freedom .scoffs. 
Of royal blood, pure its claimed. 

Descended from the Romanotfs. 
The only reason can be seen 

Why he should claim supreme command. 
Is that his ancestors had been 

Successful robbers in the land. 

Their tyranny, unmixed and pure, 

With' true despotic power combined. 
Held prince and peasant both secure. 

And ruled them with a rod of iron. 
But still the outside world moved on. 

Marking each year with progress made. 
While Russian sang the same old song. 

Her monarch plied his same old trade. 



(10 roKMS OF IDAHO. 

A few brave heroes gave command 

To ioiii the bright progressive age; 
And from the despots free their land. 

And write their name in history's page 
Then tyranny, as dark as night, 

All foaming with despotic rage. 
Sought by the brutal hand of might 

To crush all progress they had made. 

••Hut freedom's battles once begun," 

Sung Byron in poetic verse. 
"Beq\ieathed from bleeding sire to son. 
Though baffled oft is never crushed." 
The spark of freedom yet survives. 

And still eludes the despot's hand: 
"Tis nourislied. warmed and kept alive 
Within the Nihilistic clan. 

Its members scattered o'er the land. 

Its power in Russia yet unknown. 
But when it issues its command, 

The monarch trembles on his vhrone. 
Within its circle may be seen 

The aged sire and daring youth; 
The matron and the maiden fair, 

Champions of freedom and of truth. 

Though Russian czars, with iron hand. 

Had sought lo crush it from its rise. 
It wields a power in Russian land 

That despots cannot well despise. 
Although oppresed by tyrant law's, 

Tliey yield their lives without regret; 
Though thousands perish in the cause. 

Their star will reach its zenith yet. 

AVhen heroines, with courage frue, 

Take iheir own lives before the.y yield; 

Surviving friends should faith renew, 
Resolve to die or win the field. 

In Moscow, where the Muscovites 
In days gone by. their revels held, 



POEMS OF IDAHO. ()1 

Where lived the monarchs of the land, 
In Russia's ancient capital. 

The Nihilists a meeting held, 

Against the tyrants stern decree; 
Their aim and object none could tell 

But ihose who knew their history. 
When nisht h^r sable mantle hung, 

O'er city, village, plain and hill; 
When sleep beguih^d the weary throng, 

And all was silent, hushed and still. 

A Russian maid, of beauty rare. 

With dark blue eyes and neatly dressed, 
With courage brave, to do and dare. 

Her secret locked within her breast — 
But nineteen years the hourglass said. 

Had passed since first she saw the light: 
A <"hild in age and worldly care, 

Her step was joyous and light. 

Along the street in haste she files. 

All heedless of the gloom of night, 
Not dreaming that her soft blue eyes 

No more should see the light. 
lUit look! her hand's upon the bell: 

But ere its chimes announce the guest, 
A hand upon her shoulder fell. 

That hand announces her arrest. 
She turned around, with flashing eye: 

Her only thouiih her friends to screen; 
She recognized in him, the spy, 

The tvrant's tool. Solotowchine; 
A man by every tyrant blessed. 

A man that freemen could not trust; 
She knew that he would do his best 

To doom her to a life accursed. 
Before her youthful vision rose 

The dungeon's gloom, the chill prison cell: 
She knew where Russian prisoners go, 

When to home and friends they bid fan- well. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 

(^)uick as the lightning's vivid flash. 
Her pistol caught its deadly aim. 

And with a loud and deadly crash. 
The bullet pierced the tyrants brain. 

He sank to earth without a groan. 

Without a struggle there expired, 
While freedom's champion stood alone, 

l^oth friend and foeman had retired. 
Her true revolver yet she held 

Within her firm and deadl}- grasp. 
Now round her from the midnight's gloom. 

Her foemen gathered thick and fast. 

There's no escape from prison chains, 

A slave she must forever be, 
To toil m cold Siberian lands. 

Till death from prison sets her free. 
Within her grand heroic soul 

She scorned to be a tyrant's slave; 
There's freedom from their curst control, 

Within the cold and silent grave. 

Hut two alternatives were left; 

The one she could herself command. 
By her own hands a sudden death, 

Or slavery in Siberian lands. 
She soon decided it was best 

With life and all its jo\ s to part. 
The deadly weapon sought her breast, 

The leaden missile pierced her heart. 

She drank of life the bitter cup, 

The crimson current dyed her. b.east; 
A wail from freedom's shrine went up 

When lovely Olga sank to rest. 
Across the foeman's lifeless form 

The form of freedom's champion lay: 
Her spirit tied beyond their harm. 

Into a briglit celestial day. 



POEMS OF TDAHO. iV-i 

Her pistol wanied her friends within 

Of danger to their life and cause, 
And ere the police gathered in, 

They all escaped the tyrant's claws. 
Farewell, Olga! When the despots 

Tread in Russia is heard no more, 
And the star t)f freedom rises 

To illiiuic your native shore; 

When the angel liands recording 

Names of those for freedom slain, 
They will write the name of Olga 

High upon the scroll of fame. 
Thought has taught the world a lesson, 

Life is not with slavery wed; 
Slaver}' never proved a blessing; 

Better slumber with the dead: 

Ere the sacred vestal fires 

Of freedom lights the Russian sky. 
Many a martyr must expire. 

Many a hero bleed and die. 
But the sacred fires of freedom 

Burn within the soul; 
It will yet assume a power 

Tyrants never can control. 

"Truth crushed to earth will rise again," 

So Byron sung in years now past. 
And tyranny shall 3 et be slain. 

Or sneak away and die at last. 
Then when all nations, joined fraternal, 

Shall scorn to own a tyrant's might. 
And the star of freedom rises 

Grandly into perfect light. 

When the Nihilistic banner 

Waves in triumph through the air, 

May angels hands with purest sunbeams 
Write the name of Olga there. 



(54 POEMS OK IDAHO. 

A Moonlight Night in Idaho. 

Low the shades of night advancing' 

O'er the mountains crowneri with snow. 

See the silvery moonbeams dancing 
O'er the plains of Idaho. 

Constellation's robed in beaut}'. 

Bright as diamonds, charm the sight, 
Radiant as a crown of jewels, 

Glimering on the brow of night. 

Not a sound disturbs my musing, 
All is silent, hushed and still. 

Save the joyous, gladsome music 
Rippling from the mountain rill. 

While I sat alone in silence, 
Gazing on the grand displa}', 

Fancy pictured worlds of beauty 
In the regions far away. 

Far beyond my feeble vision. 
In the trackless tields of space. 

Worlds may float on airy pinions. 
Freighted with some noble race. 

Human beings, grand and glorious. 
May be dwellers on those spheres. 

Love may reign on them, victorious 
Over soiTow, hate and tears. 

Eyes may sparkle on those planets. 

Lit with love s eternal fires; 
Ears may drink in grandest music, 

Filling life with hope's desires. 

Thoughts like these in rapid transit. 
Chase each other through my brain. 

While I sit alone in silence, 
Gazing on the hills and plain. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 05 

GHziii<,^ on the lofty mountain's 

Glittering summit crowned with snow, 

From whose sides the crystal fountains 
Cast their rippling rills below. 

Leaping o'er their beds of pebbles, 
Dancing in the moonlight beams. 

Onward through the vales and meadows 
Glides the mountain's crystal streams. 

Far below me in the valleys, 
Dimly seen through forests grand, 

AVinding like some mighty serpent 
Is the Payetle's flowery strand. 

On m}' west, through vales of beauty, 

Glides the Weiser on its course. 
Kissing meadows robed in verdure. 

Rich as any land can boast. 

(^ther lands may boast of grandeur, 

Tell us of their crowns of snow. 
Hut they'll not surpass in splendor, 

A moonlight night in Idaho. 



Our Banner. 



Behold our banner, can it be 

By traitors hands 'tis now unfurled? 

Once the proud emblem of the free 
At which the British lion snarled. 

Proud eagle of our mountain heights, 
That once defied the power of kings, 

And tyrants trembled at tl\y might 

Till mammon's gold bugs clipped thy wings. 

Is this the land our fathers won? 

Is this the flag they loved to greet? 
Were thej' the sires of those sons 

That cringe beneath the tyrants' feet? 



()() POEMS OF IDAHO- 

Is this the liag we see unfurled, 
Now waving o'er a land of slaves? 

Is freedom's sacred Goddess hurled 
To death above our fathers' graves? 

Hark! hear the wails of anguish come, 
Borne o'er the land on every breeze, 

While traitors in our nation's halls 
To foreign Shylocks bend their knees. 

The sound of revelry is heard, 

From marble halls and palace homes; 

No worshiper of mammon heeds 
The orphan's wail or widow's moan. 

Go bow the head in abject shame! 

Go furl the banner of the free! 
Our boasted freedom's but a name, 

And gold has won the victory. 

Then tremble at the tyrant's name 
Who rules us from beyond the sea. 

Go work, the gold bugs to maintain, 
And curse the land that once was free. 

Unworthy sons of worthy sires. 
From freedom's temple go, depart. 

We know the blood of seventy-six 
Is dry as dust around your heart. 

Rise! freedom's champions, in our might! 

Pour forth from every nook and dell. 
And hurl the traitors out of sight 

Down in the gulf where Satan fell! 

The trust you gave into their hands 
Has been betrayed at every turn; 

They've bowed the knee at gold's command. 
And every pledge of justice spurned. 

No longer follow where they lead, 
But freedom's flag again unfurl, 

And hurl them down with lightning speed. 
No longer they should curse the world. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. (37 

A Vision of the Night. 

'Tis strange that mind, unbound by careless sleep, 

Roams free o'er time and distance vast, 
And springs aerial, with a dizz}' leap, 

Far through the mist- hid chasms of the past. 

I slept. My mind disdained to stay, 

Fettered by forms of earthly clay, 

But rose in majesty sublime. 

Defying matter, space and time. 

In thought my spirit form was standing 

Down by the Olds Ferry landing; 

The night had fled, the day was bright; 

No gloomy clouds obscured the light. 

Toward the west, along the road, 

A team was moving with its load. 

The horses were a sorrel span, 

And driven b.y a lady's hand; 

Three little children sat beside 

Their mother in this dusty ride; 

No male protector there to screen 

The babes and mother from a fiend 

That I observed was drawing nigh 

With hate and meaness in his eye. 

The fiend was riding in a hack; 

One horse a bay, the other black. 

This human fiend his horses goad 

And passes the lady on the road. 

Knowing full well his actions must 

Raise with the wind a cloud of dust 

To settle like a funeral pall 

'Round hor.ses, mother, babes and all. 

And when the woman with her trust 

Essayed to pass to shun the dust, « 

This human fiend his whip would crack 

And do his best to keep her back; 

He thought he would of victory boast. 

But reckoned here without his host. 

The lady now began to know 

That she was dealing with a foe, 



()8 POEMS OP^ IDAHO. 

And ignorant brute in human shape. 
Whose actions would disgrace an ape. 
Determined not to be outdone 
Or beat before the race was run, 
The lady gave her horses rein 
And like a whirlwind crossed the plain; 
The fiend that drove the black and bay 
Could never hope to win the day 
Against the little sorrel span 
When driven by a lady's hand; 
Tho' he with vigor plied the birch 
They left the demon in the lurch. 
Forced to the rear, there to remain. 
He snutfed the dust raised from the plain. 
So sudden was the fiend's defeat 
The lady's triumph was complete. 
The vision all so real seemed. 
Perhaps, it was not all a dream. 
An intentional insult to a lady is an insult to 
every civilized man. 



The Lonely Grave Bcside the Road. 

lOn Hornet Creek at the foot of "Peck's Hill," is the lone gravi 
of Mrs. r. C. Wllkie, which i.s the subject of the following-. | 

I Stood beside a lonel}^ grave 

Upon a lonely spot, 
I thought, above the sod should wave 

The dear forget-me-not; 
Or lovely rose, with beauty rare. 

Each year should bud and bloom 
To mingle with the balmy air 

Its delicate perfume, 
^olian music filled the air, 

Borne on the evening breeze, 
Mild as blest voices giving praise 

It swept the leafy trees. 
And while the winds their requiem sang 

These words came to my ear: 
"Tread softly round this sacred mound, 

A mother's sleeping here." 



POEMS OF IDAHO. ()J) 

Sleep on, and may Hie sacred sod 

Rest ligliilv on thy breast, 
And birds their sweetest music trill 

Above thy place of rest. 
And when the spring returns eacli year. 

And wild tiowers rcnind thee bloom. 
Then lovely birds sliall wing- the air 

Above thy lonely tomb. 

And when all nature's sunk in sleep. 

And darkness veils the earth, 
May loN'ing hearts in memory keep 

This sacred spot of earth. 
And when the golden beams of morn 

Lights up thy lone abode. 
May love protect the lonely grave. 

The grave beside the road. 



Autumn. 

'Tis Autumn, now the gi Iden sun 
Is shorn of many a brilliant ray. 

The leaves are falling one by one. 

The birds have ceased their tuneful lay 

Closer the family gather round 

The blazing fire, their hearts to cheer, 

The breeze-stirred forests wailing sound 
Foretells the winter's drawing near. 

The cruel frosts, with icy breath, 

The lovely drooping tiowers have slain; 

We know he's here, we see he's left 
His footprints on the window pane. 

Soon shall December's chilling blasts 
Sweep o'er the land, and drop a tear. 

For many hopes, too bright to last. 
Must fade with the departing year. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 

Soon shall the snowy robes of white 

Be spread upon the plains, 
And crystal streams, sparkling and bright. 

Be clasped in icy chains. 

The Christmas festival is near, 

And Santa Clans, with gifts and toys. 

Will soon be here to gladden hearts 
Of m;iny little girls and boys. 

y3ut then again, how sad to know 
That millions in this favored land 

The joys of Christmas must forego, 
And bow in want at greed's command. 

If justice, love and truth could reign, 
And tyranny from earth be hurled. 

The poor and v\'eek would be sustained, 
And honor's banner be unfurled, 

l^ut selfish greed, and partial laws 
Becloud the narrow way of life. 

And give the toiling millions cause 
To foster trouble, care and strife. 

Hut then the world sweeps on apace. 
Redemption seems almost in sight. 

On freedom's flag the words we trace 
Are honor, justice, truth and right. 



My Mother's Hair. 

A lock of hair, a tiny thing. 

But oh, what memories round it gather 
To linger like a passing dream, 

And glorify the name of mother. 

A name enshrined in every heart, 
A name that gilds our childish joy, 

Embalmed in love on memories chart. 
Where time nor tide can ne'er destroy. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 

No other liand can sooth the pain. 

Or bring the balm to childhood sweet; 
A mother's love will true remain 

Till hearts forever cease to beat. 

Often in silent thought I stand 

Again beside her loving form. 
Amidst the rocks upon life's strand, 

And bid defiance to the storm. 

Deai- mother, art thou living still 
Beyond this vale of earthly strife. 

And canst thy loving spirit thrill 
My being in this lonely life. 

Come, then, when sorrow's troubled waves 
Rolls o'er my being dark and deep. 

Enfold me in thy loving arms, 

And kiss me, mother, while I sleep. 



The Israelite's Mule Eide. 

■|Thf following- is rt relation of a loi-al incident 
nilliar to many in the northern part of Wasliingto 

It was in the month of August. 

A summer month I believe, 
When farmers all in Idaho 

Were gathering in their sheaves 
Of goldt-n grain to bless the land 

With nature's bounteous store. 
And hunger, povery and want 

To banish from our shore. 

An Israelite came from the north, 

Of royal blood, I believe. 
But of this fact I am not sure. 

Appearances will deceive. 
He landed at Salubria, 

From there he thought to ride 
To where the miners sturdy strokes 

Had cleaved the mountain side. 



POKMS OK IDAHO. 

He looked around, he found a beast, 

"Twas gentl(% kind and true, 
An eight.y -year-old donkey 

He tliought would take him through; 
A miglity sum of gold he payed, 

Then did the mule b stride, 
And with his whip and spurs outdid 

John Gilpin's famous ride. 

At Council Valley, on the route. 

His royal suite to cheer, 
He turned his pockets wrong side out 

And bouglit some lager beer. 
Then onward still he held his way 

Till night her mantle spread, 
Then filled his royal carcass up 

With milk and went to bed. 

The poor old donkey could not boast 

Of any surplus fat, 
As on his hip, it's very plain, 

A man could hang his hat 
l^ut still he popp d the donkey through, 

And back to town he came, 
Upon the donkey's hurricane deck 

He gained a world of fame. 

King David rode upon a mule. 

And Christ upon an ass. 
And here in Idaho we'vi' found 

Their prototype at last; 
The only difference I can see 

Against the ancient rule. 
In modern times it comes to be 

The ass should ride the mule. 

Someliow, I think, the story goes, 

That since that fearful ride 
The poor old donkey sought I'epose 

In death bv suicide. 



POEMS OF IDAHO 

He could not bear the keen rebuke; 

Of honor thus bereft. 
He sought a deep and shad}- brook 

And found relief in death. 

But if the story is untrue. 

The donkey still survives, 
I hope they'll turn him on the range 

And let the hero thrive. 
But if he takes that trip again 

For Israelitic gold. 
May the great God that rules above 

Have mercy on his soul. 



The Deserted Husband. 

Oh Minnie, dear Minnie, when we were made one, 

Tlie future seemed lovely and fair, 
No clouds of despair had yet darkened our sun 

And love filled the ambient air. 
Chorus: 
Then Minnie, dear Minnie, come home with me now, 

The clock on the mantel strikes one, 
There is no one at home now to milk; the old cow, 

And I am forever undone. 

Each morning we woke to the toils of the day, 

While love lit the path that we trod. 
No discord was nurtured to darken our wa3% 

Or anger Love's beautiful God. 
Chorus: 
Then Minnie, dear Minnie, come home with me now. 

The clock on the mantel strikes two, 
Come quick and my troubles forever dispell, 

I've made a great mess of this stew. 

A mantle of snow has now covered the earth 

To the depth of two feet and a half, 
And T am sorel}' discouraged, loneh' and sad, 

1 feel like a motherless calf. 



74 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

Chorus: 
Then Minnie, dear Minnie, come home with me now, 

The clock on the mantel strikes three, 
No anger shall ruffle my temper again, 

And with thee I'll ever agree. 

There is no one at home to get up in the morn 

And kindle the fire while I snooze; 
My breeches are ripped, and my shirt is all torn, 

And the strings are lost out of my shoes. 
Chorus: 
Then Minnie, dear Minnie, come home with me now. 

The clock on the mantel strikes four, 
I am grieving so much that I am falling away, 

I am sick, sad, sorrowful and sore. 

Without you the world is a blank and a curse, 

And in it no longer f'U ^tay, 
I'll swallow some poison or get up a muss. 

And get stabbed or shot in the fray. 
Chorus: 
Then Minnie, dear Minnie, come home with me now. 

The clock on the mantel strikes five, 
Come quick or I swear b}' a true love's vow 

You'll see me no more here alive. 

Come quick to my arms and no longer delay. 

For "time and the tide wait for none," 
And when you get here I'll persuade you to stay, 

Or good-bye to my father's dear son. 
Chorus; 
Then Minnie, dear Minnie, come home with me now, 

The clock on the mantel strikes six. 
You surely would not after taking the vow 

Go leave me in such a bad fix. 



Composed and Sung for Some Little Girls. 

One morning quite early, I felt rather surl}', 
I rose from my bed and walked out in the air, 

The cattle were lowing, the chickens were crowing, 
All nature seemed beautiful, lovely and fair. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 75 

The horses were neighing, the kittens were playing, 
The old cat was mewing to sanction the fun". 

The dog wagged his tail, the hog grunts approval. 
Then all join in chorus to welcome the sun. 

The day king, so hoary, arose in his glory, 

Sailed over the mountains with banner unfurled, 

The lark from his nest rose upward to meet him. 
And warble a song to the king of the world. 

The pheasants were drumming, the bees were all 
humming. 

The lambkins were frol icing over the green, 
While the music of nature rolled upward and onward. 

In rapture I gazed on the beautiful scene. 

The pansies, and poseys, and sweet little roses, 
Bedecked with the clear crystal dews of the night. 

Lift their beautiful heads as they rise from their beds 
To waft sweet perfume to the kmg of the light. 

The shadows of night in the West were receding 
Before the advance of the king of the day, 

While forms without number arose from their 
slumber, 
To gaze with delight on the grand display. 

The clear little streams, kissed by the sun's beams, 
Came leaping and laughing from mountains so 
steep. 

Then onward they glide till they meet with the tide. 
And are lost to our view in the brine of the deep. 

Then Neptune, the king of old ocean, commands 
them. 
Till kissed by the sun they arise from the main, 
Then onward they float, like a beautiful boat. 
Till condensed they descend on mountain and 
plain. 



7() POEMS OF IDAHO. 

Then earth in liis station receives the libation, 
And seed time and liarvest is with us again; 

Thus nature's endea\or rolls onward forever. 
And thus is the life of our planet sustained. 

And when I beheld all the beauties of nature. 

In harmony working- the whole to maintain, 
Ashamed of my folly, and sad melancholy, 

I resolved that I'd never be surly again, 

J)Ut while I was gazing, in wonder amazing, 
A peal of bright laughter the harmonies blend, 

A bevy of girls, with their ringlets and curls, 
Tlie picture completes, and my song's at an end. 

Seven Devil Song. 

fCoinposed and sun^ while in camp at the mines. 1 

Come all ye bold adventurers 

And listen to my song 
About the Seven Devil mines, 

I will not keep you long; 
Those mines of wealth thafs lately found 

Display the ore bright, 
And millions yet beneath the ground 
Is bound to see the light. 
Chorus: 
Then dig boys, dig, let us the ore find. 
And open up in handsome style the Seven Devil mines 

And when you pack your old cayuse, 

And start to make a raise, 
And stop upon a grassy plot 

To let the equine graze. 
You're liable at any time 

To meet a rattle bug, 
Then don't forget the snake bite cure, 

Corked up in the brown jug. 
Chorus :^Then dig boys. etc. 

Then when you reach the Devil mines, 
All filled with wind and gush. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. i i 

Don't mope about and hang your head. 

You'd make the Dev'ils blush: 
But shoulder up your pick and pan. 

And take your shovel too. 
Then when you strike an ore \ein 

Just pop the Devils through. 
Chorus: — Then dig boys, etc. 

And when the rock becomes so hard 

You can no longer pick. 
Don't hang your head and look so sour. 

You'd make the Devils sick; 
Hut seize your drill and hammer loo. 

Put down a four- foot hole. 
Then charge it well with dynamite. 
And let the thunder roll. 

Chorus: — Then dig boys, etc. 
Then when we're down a hundred feet. 

With ore on the dump. 
The money kings will all take hold 

And make the Devils hump. 
Then when we sell our mines of wealth. 

We'll money have to spend. 
We'll put our plated harness on 
And visit all our friends. 

Chorus:— Then dig boys, etc. 
For when a man has wealthy grown. 

The past is all forgot, 
He's honored, petted, loved and praised. 

Although a drunken sot: 
And as our wealth accumulates, 

The ladies all will .^mile. 
We'll bid the Devils all good-bye, 
And live in splendid style. 
Chorus: 
Then dig boys, let us the ore find. 
And open upin handsome style the Seven Devil mines 
Then laugh boys, laugh, we have the ore found. 
We'll make our pile, we'll live in style. 
Then pass the lager round. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 

A Vision of the Future. 

One evening, the last of November, 
When the Storm King in majestj' rose 

To welcome in dreary December, 

With its glittering ice jewels and snows. 

When the leaves from their stems had departed. 
And the Howers lay withered and slain, 

And night, with its mantle of darkness. 
Had shrouded boih mountain and plain, 

While careworn and weary, I slumbered, . 

In peaceful and silent repose. 
While the moments glide past me unnumbered, 

A vision of grandeur arose. 

The form was a beautiful female. 
Her brow wore the laurels of fame, 

Her motto was Truth. Love and Duty, 
And Honor the vision by name. 

Then slowly arose from the darkness, 
Arrayed in her garments of light, 

Came Truth, like an angel of brightness, 
To honor this vision of night. 

Then Honor and Truth stood together, 

And a halo encircled them both, 
And it spemed that no power could sever 

This union of Honor and Truth. 

While thus stood these visions united, 
A third, robed in garments all bright. 

Came forth, like an angel of beautj', 
To illumine the darkness of night. 

It was Friendship, Love's bosom companion. 

From Honor and Truth had its birth, 
And wherever it asserts its dominion. 

There happiness dwells on the earth. 



rOEMS OF IDAHO. 

The fourth was a vision most glorious, 
It descended from mansions above. 

And her banner was ever victorious. 
For this was the vision of Love, 

Her banner waved over the nations. 
And peace and contentment had birth. 

War, with its millions of horrors, 
And discords were driven from earth. 

Her's was the reign of a goddess. 

Descended from heaven above; 
Her laws filled the hearts of the nations 

With Honor, Truth, Friendship and Love. 

Then crime, with its brood of disasters. 
And misery and want left the world; 

Happiness dwelt with the nations 
Wherever Love's banner's unfurled. 

Then the lion and the lamb lay together. 
The eagle at peace with the dove, 

And the nations were governed forever 
l>y Honor, Truth, Friendship and Love. 

Then why should we cultivate sorrow. 
Let's gather the fiowers while they bloi>m. 

For why should we wait till tomorrow, 
Whose sun ma^' shine over our tomb. 

May the hand of fraternity lead us. 
Ma}' justice and conscience approve 

All actions that find their endorsement 
In Honor, Truth, Friendship and Love, 



My Partner's Snore. 



'Tis midnight now, the moon has sunk 

Behind the western hill, 
W^hile darkness lets her curtains down 

And all is hushed and still. 



rOEMS OF IDAHO. 

No sounds disturb the stillness now. 

Darkness in silence rei<;'ns. 
Sa\e wlien the nitiiit owl's dismal note 

Echoes o'er hills and plains. 

Slowly the diowsy god enfolds 

My senses in his g'rasp, 
Xill M)rpheus my bun": holds, 

I (juiet sleep at last. 

TTow long- I slept, I can not tell, 

Before the storm began, 
l)Ut such a dreadful noise before 

^Vas never heard by man. 

It seemed that all the fiends that fell 
. Were screaming in my ear, 
They'd burst the brazen doors of hell 
And all assembled here 

The d^ep bass voice, the treble sounds. 

Soprano, too, was there: 
And every hideous, frightful noise 

Was floating in the air. 

1 thought of all unearthly sounds, 

Of Milton's hideous fiend. 
Of noises in air and under ground. 

That I had heard or seen. 

1 thought of Dante's Inferno too, 

Of Satan's sultry clime, 
Oi' hell, so graphically described 

In Pollock's Course of Time. 

I C(Hild no longer bear the din, 

I kneeled before the crowd 
To plead for mercy, I began 

In accents long and loud. 

But one tremendous snort there came, 

I bounded from the rtoor. 
And found the sounds proceeded from 

My partner's dreadful snore. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. SI 

I'm Sad To Night. 

I'm sad tonig'ht, my thoughts are filled 

With home and scenes of yore, 
T stand again where oft I roamed 

Willamette's flovvery shore; 
The broad leavpd maple shades the ground 

In Nature's svlvan bowers: 
The grand fir sways before the wind. 

The land is robed with flowers. 

I wander on the flowery shore. 

Beneath the fragrant trees; 
I hear the bell chimes as of yore. 

Borne on the evening breeze. 
The fragrant balm, the maple bloom, 

The rose in beauty rare, 
The hawthorn blossom's rich perfume, 

Scents all the evening air. 

The birds their sweetest tributes brmg 

To crown tho-e scenes of joy; 
The murmuring stream flows sweetly on 

In gladness, sans alloy; 
The golden sunbeams from above 

Fall gently o'er the land, 
Inspiring all with hope and love 

Of Nature's lavish hand. 

As day declines a song of love 

Floats out upon the air. 
As soft as sunbeams from above, 

Inspiring hop(^ and cheer. 
Once more I see the smilinu- face 

Light up with hope again; 
On memory's page 'tis still embalmed. 

In love it still remains. 

The golden sun has sunk to rest 

Behind the western hill. 
The stars peep out, those scenes to bless: 

The stream is murmuring still, 



S2 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

While o'er these scenes of joy and love. 

The silvery moonbeams fell; 
The herds wind slowly home again 

Across the hazel dell. 

Farewell Willamette! flowery stream! 

I've wandered from your side; 
No more my bounding bark is seen 

Upon your crystal tide; 
Slowly the scene fades from my view, 

A wanderer still I roam; 
My journey onward I'll pursue 

Far from my childhood home. 

Perhaps I'll wander back some day 

Amidst th(jse scenes of yore. 
Where once I played, nor thought to stray. 

Far from your gentle shore; 
Amidst those scenes but few are left, 

That still ray thoughts command. 
They have crossed the mystic stream of death. 

And dwell in fairer lands. 



The Eetum of Spring. 

'Twas Easter morn, the sun rose bright 

O'er hills and mountains crowned with snow. 

That glistening in the morning light. 
Looked down on quiet vales below. 

Where life had just began to wake 
To burst old Winter's icy chains, 

To scatter flowers of light and love 
O'er mountain, valley, hill and plain. 

Soon we shall welcome Spring's return. 
In all her gorgeous beauty dressed. 

Her robes of green, her crown of flowers. 
With dewdrops sparkling on her breast. 



POEMS OF IDAHO 8H 

The brilliant robes that Winter wore, 
The gems that glisten on his breast, 

Disolves in tears, and with a sigh 
He yields the empire of the West. 

To Spring, the royal queen of flowers, 
Whose presence gilds each flowery bed, 

AVho brings the mild and gentle showers, 
Old Winter bows his regal head. 

With joy all nature smiles to meet 
The regal queen with all her charms. 

While Winter sinks beneath her feet, 
She folds the world within her arms. 

The merry birds, with songs of love, 
Rejoice amidst their shady bowers; 

The rippling rills from prison bound 
And laughing greet the lovely flowers. 

The golden beams of sunshine falls 
On scenes of beauty, far and near. 

While Nature's voice in music calls, 
To tell the world that Spring is here. 




84 POEMS OF IDAHO. 



(A comparison.) 

lln the spring of 1890, after the hard winter when 80 much 
stock died in Idaho, many of the peoi)le were diwt atistied with tlie 
countvyand talked of emmigiating-. This poem was written to sh o\v 
tliein that other places hufi'ere J as bad or won e that winter, and 
that they woiild not better their condition by emmigrating from 
the Gem" of the Mountains.] 

"The cheerful spring' has come again. 
And flowers cover hill and plain; 
The grass has come to stay the tide 
Of death that swept the mountain side. 
And rioted on hill and plain, 
Where thousands lay by tamine slain; 
Late did chilling winds around them blow. 
While deeper fell the drifting snow; 
Their food gave out, and all too late 
We realized their helpless state. 
Their sufferings were compelled to see, 
Till death from misery set them free; 
The noble hors<-, the cow, the sheep, 
Beneath the snowy mantle sleep, 
'Twas man's to be bereft of wealth, 
'Twas theirs to starve and suffer death; 
But man is to blame, not Providence, 
So reason says, and common sense, 
We must for helpless stock provide. 
If they would stem the winter's tide. 
To trust in Providence, we know, 
Will not avail in Idaho; 
And when the wintry snows come back 
'Tis best to have a large hay stack; 
'Twill save your stock, and banish care. 
And do more good than song or prayer, 
And 3'et we hear where e'er we go 
Men curse the state of Idaho. 
What this state needs is men of sense, 
Who take no stock in Providence, 



POEMS OK IDAHO. ? 

But, if tliey trust in God, will ti-y 
To keep tlieir iiay and fodder dry. 
If we resolve to leave the suite. 
Pra}' tell us where to emigrate." 

While thus T mused in thought profound, 
Sleep kissed my weary eyelids down. 
And while I slept I had a dream. 
Or vision, it so real 5-eemed. 

THE VISION. 

A voice was heard. I turned my head. 

A Genii stood beside my bed. 

A golden light its raidance shed 

Around the Genii's siately head. 

A look benevoleni and wise 

Beamed from out his love-lit eyes; 

A voice of music, low and sw^eet. 

Softly my waking senses greet; 

It bid my dreaming spirit arise 

And with him ascend the upper skies. 

At Genii's bidding my mind disdained 

To stay, by mortal fetters chained, 

But rose in maj(-sty sublime. 

Defying matter, space and time; 

And with the Genii for my guide 

On wings of thought through space we glid« 

Our course lay eastward, oh, how strange. 
We crossed the Rocky Mountain range. 
And at the Genii's mild command. 
We paused on Kansas" fairy land; 
The night had tied, the day was bright, 
No gloomy clouds obscured the light; 
The sun w^as shining in the east, 
Calling the nations to their feast, 
Where man's industrious hands had spread 
The festive board, and all were led. 
Their cities dotted hill and plain; 
Their valleys filled with waving grain; 
Their city domes and loft spires. 
Art's triumph that we all admire, 



8() POEMS OF IDAHO, 

Rose upward, stately, grand and fair, 
To kiss the sunbeams in the air; 
The school house, church, and sacred home. 
Reveled in beauty, spire and dome; 
The deep-toned church bell's solemn call 
To praise the Architect of all. 
For peace and love at Thy command 
Is showered upon this favored land. 
Surely, thought I, we'll emmigrate 
And build a home in Kansas state. 
But while I though the land was blest. 
The Genii pointed to the west, 
"Behold." said he, '"a funeral shroud!" 
1 looked, and saw a tiny cloud; 
No larger than a human hand. 
Was floating on the western strand; 
Slowly it moved toward the east. 
Its color changed, it speed increased. 
From snowy white, to inky black, 
It moved along its fatal track. 
And what was but a speck at best 
Now shrouds in gloom the glowing west; 
Moving across the arch of heaven, 
Onward by lightning's lances driven; 
The deep toned thuiider's awful roar, 
Shaking the land from shore to shore; 
The lowing herds, in mute despair. 
Scent danger in the troubled air; 
And strong men gaze, while hopes depart 
And fear and trembling seize the heart 
And lovely women's paled cheek. 
Betrays the fear they dare not speak; 
And children, too, with fear oppressed. 
In terror gaze upon the west; 
And in the thunder's awful tone 
They recognize the dread cyclone; 
Sweeping toward them in its wrath. 
Carrying destruction in its path. 
Some seek for shelter under ground. 
While wrecks of homes are scattered round; 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 87 

The gilded dome and loftj' spire, 
With splinters fill the angry air; 
The herds caught in the angry tide 
Are swept to death on ever^^ side; 
And mangled corpses of human mould, 
Beneath the ruins, pale and cold; 
Amidst the cyclone's awful roar 
Sleep now in deaih to wake no more; 
Some kne( 1 to pray in mute dispair, 
Some whirl in terror through the air; 
Some cry for help, but all in vain, 
The thunder shakes the hills and plain; 
The rich, the poor, the fair, the brave 
Have found alike one common grave. 
Hut onward sweeps the dread cyclone. 
Amidst the awful shrieks and groans. 
The crys for help, the sad depair. 
The wailing sounds that fill the air; 
The cities, happy homes and towns. 
Are piled in wrecks upon the ground; 
While thousands mourn in plaintive strain, 
The husbands, wives and children slain. 
The cyclone came then left the earth. 
As strange as it's mysterious birth. 
Then with the Genii for my guide. 
We walked where 'surged the fearful tide. 
The Genii, with unerring hand. 
Points out the desolated land, 
And said: "Back, but a few short hours. 
These homes were lovely, crowned with fiowers. 
That now in heaps of ruin lie. 
While cries of anguish rend the sky." 
Observing thus their awful fate, 
I longed to leave the cyclone state. 
The Genii waved his magic wand, 
Again we rose above the land. 
Glad to ascend the upper air. 
Beyond such scenes of sad despair. 
'Wiiere now?" the Genii camly said, 
'Southward," said I. He bowed his head. 



88 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

We l('av(^ the frozen north and "'o 
Down where the oransv blossoms blow: 
He waved his wand with ma^ic grace, 
Onward we glide through fields of space, 
To where we greet, with glad surprise. 
The sunny clime and starry skies, 
To dwell amidst magnoliau bowers. 
In Florida, the land of flowers. , 
Here we beheld a lovely scene; 
(J lad cliildren romping on the green; 
The air was laden with perfume 
From orange and magnolia bloom; 
From schools amidst Arcadian bowers. 
Came happy children, crowned with flowers: 
The feathered songsters lovely, fair. 
With music fill the evening air. 
The Missis'-ippi. grandest stream 
That e\er kissed the morning beam; 
Named by a race, traditions say 
That long ago have passed aw;iy. 
Father of Wateis. grand and great: 
Thy arteries pierce through many a state: 
While on thy bosom deep and wide, 
The navies of the world might ride. 
Alono- thy banks bedecked wilh flowers. 
Rise cities, towns and lofty towers: 
Whilf happy homes their love impart. 
To glad tlie weary pilgrim's heart: 
Where love and joy have their birth. 
A heavenly Paradise on earth. 
"Surely," said I, "the land is fair. 
Balmy and soft the fragrant air. 
We'll leave the state of Idaho 
And settle where oranges grow.'* 
While ihn< I mused a gentle breeze 
Swept softly through the fragrant trees: 
A weird sound by nature given. 
Inspiring thoughts of home and heaven. 
Hut to the Genii's practiced eye 
The signs fortell a cloudy sky. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. SO 

Kissed b3' the morning's a^olden beams 

The vapors rise from lakes and streams, 

Then moving slowly, grand and strange, 

I>rift northward lo the snowy range, 

And meeting ^^'ith the chilh' air 

Condense and fall in torrents there; 

The snow disolves, the rains that fell 

Rush down the murmuring streams to swell: 

Then moving southward in their might, 

Till one by one they all unite; 

A misihty torrent southward swings, 

Hearing destruction on its wings. 

The grand Missouri in her pride. 

Sweeps i)nward like a surging tide. 

"Wrecking the homes along hf-r strand, 

Carrying dismay throughout the land. 

The Mississippi's rolling tide. 

Fed by the flood from every side, 

Sweeps onward from the land of snow. 

Towards the Gulf of Mexico. 

The Mississippi's ancient bed 

No longer holds the angry flood; 

The levies break, the awful roar. 

Echoes their doom from shore to shore: 

Amidst the wrecks and wailing cries. 

From hill to hill the waters rise, 

While hundreds, with no hand to save, 

Sink down to find a watery grave: 

While horses, cattle, swine and sheep, 

Lie mouldering in one common heap. 

V\ here stood the homes crowned with flowers. 

Amidst the swei-t magnolia bowers, 

Now desolation shrouds them all 

In mourning like a funeral pall. 

Soon. as the water left the land 

The yellow fever scourge began. 

And thousands died, while hundreds fled, 

The brave remained to shroud the dead. 

And lay them in the cemetery 

From care, and grief, and sorrow free. 



00 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

TiuMi said the Genii, •"Sjiall we stay?" 
••No! nol"' said I. "Awayl away! 
No matter to what clime we go. 
We'll leave this land of death and woe." 
The Genii waved liis wand again. 
We rose above the hill and plain; 
••Westward," siid I, ""A home we'll' seek 
l^eyond the Rocky Mountain's peak, 
In California, Golden State, 
Where dwells the lovely, wise and great: 
Where never sweeps the dread cyclone, 
Nor yellow fever's scourge is known; 
Wliere birds of brilliant plumage sing 
And spo-'t in one perpetual spring." 

Across the continent we glide, 
To San Francisco's golden gate; 
O'er hill and plain, and mountain range 
To setile in that favored state, 
Here we beholl in beauty dressed. 
The empire city of the West; 
Her lofty towers and gi ded dome; 
Her marble halls and palace home, 
Rivaling in beauty, and in wealth, 
The halls where Eastern monarchs dwelt. 
At her feet the noble bay. 
Calm as a sleeping infant lay; 
Scarce ruttled by the moi-ning breeze. 
That siiihed in music through the trees; 
And by it's weird tones recall 
"The harp that swept through Tara's hall; 
Rivaling the notes beyond dispute 
That trembled from Apollo's lute. 
Upon its bosom, deep and wide, 
The ships of every nation ride; 
And flags of eyery nation rise 
Upward to greet the sunny skies; 
And gayly float above the bay 
From early dawn till close of day. 
Toward the east, across the bay. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 91 

Oakland in all her beauty lay, 

The San Francisco millionaire 

Has reared his palace dwellincj there. 

Across the bay. at evening' tide. 

From business cares the weary glide. 

Some go with bounding hearts to meet 

A home of lo\'e, a calm retreat. 

Where love and joy butli unite 

To fill their bosom's with delight; 

With wife and babes awhile to live, 

A life that love alone can give; 

While others turn with weary life 

Towards a home of hate and strife. 

Where demons at their presence start 

To rend the weary watcher's heart. 

And curse the home with hate and strife, 

Where love and peace should crown each life. 

How strange it is that men of sense 

Will to all nature give offence. 

And never I'-arn through years of strife 

That love is all there is of life. 

The love of parents, home and friend. 

Of wife and child should never end. 

But brighter grow as time rolls on 

Toward the golden setting sun. 

When life shall cease upon the eartli. 

And death shall bring the second birth: 

And family ties ao:ain unite 

Within a world of love and light: 

Where love and hope, with trembling breath, 

No more shall kiss the lips of death; 

Where love eternal reigns supreme. 

And life's no more a troubled dream. 

Kut this digression pra.y excuse, 
The thoughts that filled my mind. 

My fingers could not well refuse 
To place them on the line; 

As much to speak of yet remains 



02 POEMS OP IDAHO. 

I'll to my subject turn aaain. 

Around the bay the hills arise. 

In verdure clothed, toward the skies. 

And tiowers of everj' hue are seen 

To mingle witli the evergreen; 

And tropic plants of beauty rare. 

Fill with perfume the balmy air; 

No frost to nip them in the bud. 

Or snows to swell an angry Hood. 

Here thought I, we'll build a home, 

And o'er the w^rld no longer roam. 

But when I came to look around 

No home for us could here be found. 

The rich the powerful, and the great. 

Owned ever}' foot of real estate; 

To buy the land and build a home 

Would cost more than we ever owned. 

While thus I was thinkinghow sad was my fate. 

Debarred from a home in this beautiful state. 

The Genii, by way of encouragement, said, 

"You might live here till you die.on water and bread. 

The lords of creation have gobbled the soil. 

And are massing their wealth from the laborer's toil. 

While millions must, toil both early and late. 

To add to the wealih of the rich man's estate: 

While living themselves on the laborer's fare. 

Which the bosses define as bread, water and air. 

How strange is the fact as the wealth does increase. 

That those who produce it enjoy it the least. 

While the robbt'r and knaxe not a dollar has made. 

Yet they revel in wealth and recline in the shade." 

"Another scourge," the Genii said, 

•'That every laborer must dread. 

The Chinese horde.^ fill every town. 

To press the laborer's wages down 

So low they scarcely life sustain. 

While men of M^ealth the profits gain; 

Yet laborers toil from morn to night, 

Half clothed, half fed, their lives a blight; 

No star of hope to them brings cheer. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 

But toil and drudoe from year to year: 
Slaves to the lords that own the land. 
The poor obey, the rich command. 
And still we loud of freedom boast. 
While thousands grovel in the dust. 
Compelled by misery, want and cold 
To kneel before the rich man's gold. 
And beg the monarchs of the soil 
To give the poor man leave to toil: 
WhUe wife and cliild, hungry and cold. 
Must suffer through tlie greed for gold: 
While children in the gutter dwell 
Surrounded by an earthly hell: 
With every generous thought suppressed. 
While hiitred rankles in their oreast. 
Till want, and povery, and crime, 
Go hand in hand in every clime. 
How strange it is that selfish greed 
Will honor, truth and love succeed. 
And banish from the human heart 
The love that mercy would impart."' 
I looked around, on every hand 
Leagues upon leagues of vacant land, 
The pride and glory of the West; 
In Nature's flowery mantle dressed: 
Awaiting but the hand of toil 
To cultivate the fertile soil. 
To crown with joy each toiler's life. 
And blessings shower on man and wite: 
Where weary laborers might come 
And find a peaceful, happy home; 
And childhood's tender life unfold. 
More precious than their glittering gold; 
To drink at joy's happy font. 
Secure from penury and want. 
"Surelv. said I. "we'll settle here. 
And live in peace from year to year. 
Till nature's mandate bids us rise 
To claim our home beyond the skies." 
l>ut here the Genii shook his head; 



1)H 



POEMS OF I1>AH0. 

"You cannot settle here" he said, 
"This lan(i is held by men of wealth. 
Who's thoughts ai-e only that of self. 
They think the earth for them was made: 
They claim the sunshine and the shade. 
They claim the rich and fertle soil, 
They claim the wealth produced by toil, 
The.y claim the world, and if they dare, 
•Would hold the water, earth and air, 
And make the toiler tribute pay 
Or cease to live and pass awa.y.*' 
The genii said, "Take my advice, 
This is the rich man's paradise. 
But not the land for those who toil. 
Yet cannot claim one foot of soil; 
While proud and imperious lords of birth. 
Own many leagues of xnother earth: 
While toilers not a foot can own 
Whereon to build a happy home; 
Scarcely enough to lay their head 
When they are numbered with the dead." 
While musing on the Genii's words 
A voice, in accents low, was heard. 
"Father of Heaven," thus it said, 
"Give us this day our daily bread, 
And keep us safe throughout the night 
Till early morning greets the light." 
Instead of joining heart and hand 
To right such wrongs throughout the land. 
They kneel with reverence and dread, 
To ask their God for daily bread. 
While millionaires defy the law. 
And from the toiling masses draw 
The wealth that should its blcssini;s shed 
On all who work for their crust of bread. 
The law protects them in their might. 
No matter whether wrong or i-ight. 
We could not think to settle here. 
And toil and drudge from year to year , 
While men of wealth the profits gain 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 

And we could scarcely life maintain. 

A>>ain I was compelled to roam 

And northward seek our happy home, 

Tlie Genii waved his wand again; 

We rose above the land of fame, 

And moving northward with the gale 

Along the Sacramento's vale. 

We noticed here on every hand 

That angry floods had swept the land. 

And homes in wrecks and ruins lay 

On every hand along our way. 

AVe cross the line at early dawn 

And land in Southern Oregon; 

Here, too, the floods had done their part 

And winter saddened man^' a- heart; 

Where loss b}' flood and storm was great 

As any in the Golden State. 

But onward yet we held our way. 

Not yet content to stop and stay 

In any state that we had seen, 

Though crowned with flow^ers and evergreen. 

We crossed the Calapooya range, 

A vision beautiful and si range 

As ever met a wandere:''s e.ye, 

Or basked beneath a summer's sky, 

Lay spread before us. grand, sublime: 

The valley of the Westera Rhine, 

The grand Willamette, flower}' stream. 

I see you often in my dreams. 

And stand in thought upon your shore 

To li^e mv boyhood pleasures o'er; 

To think of friends back in the past. 

Who's friendship may or may not last: 

Since fate decreed that I should roam 

Far from my old VVillameite home. 

The fact was here beyond dispute. 

We stood on top of Spencer Butte, 

The air was cool, and bright the day. 

And beaut}' stretchwl for leagues away. 



0() POEMS OF IDAHO. 

Northward does grand WillametU^ run. 

Her waters sparkling in the siin: 

From every side the rippling rills 

Leap forth from mountains, plains and hills. 

To meet and mingle with the stream, 

''J\) glisten in the morning beam. 

As on the placid waters glide 

To mingle with Columbia's tide: 

Then onward west thti waters sweep 

To mingle with the brin.y deep. 

Toward the east the Cascade range 

Rise upward, weird, grand and strange; 

Their summits crowned with purest snow. 

From whicli Willamette's waters flow, 

In rippling rills they downward glide. 

They cleave the rugged mountain side. 

Swit as the wild dt^er in his flight 

Till one by one they all unite: 

Then northward still their motion keep. 

Their destiny the briny deep 

Those grand old moimtains long ago. 

Volcanoes stood with heat aglow^ 

And from their craters, fiery tides 

Of lava poured from every side; 

Downward descends the fiery sheet 

Till space absorbs the glowing heat;^ 

A monuTUiMit it stands at last 

To write the history of the past: 

In charatuer grand and sublime. 

Mysterious to the common mind. 

Hut science u-rasps and holds the key. 

That shall unlock the mystery. 

As time rolls on each fiery crest 

Cools, and the mountains stand at rest: 

No more volcanic thunders I'oar, 

Nor down their side the lava pour: 

('aim and serene with crowns of snow. 

They look on fiowery lands below'. 

On old Willamette's fiowery vale. 

Where cereal harvests never fail: 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 

Gon<;enial to their perfect needs, 

To ripen and mature their seeds; 

While grapes in clusters load the vine. 

For healthy food or rub}' wine; 

And ripen in the srenial sun 

Within the State of Oregon. 

And untold wealth of fruits and flowers 

Would crown with ioy the farmer's hours 

If it were not for unjust laws 

That slight or damn the farmers' cause; 

And gives to money kings the right 

To rob the farmer day and night; 

liy usury that he cannot pay, 

Though toil and struggle as he ma3% 

A mortgage presses like a blight 

Upon his home with dreadful might, 

Although industrious, kind and brave, 

The curse will haunt him to his grave: 

Then minions of the law will come 

And rob the orphans of their home. 

Down at our feet behold Eugene, 

Of Western towns, the stateh' queen; 

Her business buildings reared of late, 

Unrivaled by any older state. 

Broad and commodious are her streets, 

Which every want of travel meets; 

Alon2" each side, on every hand. 

The broad-leafed, shady maple stands; 

While round each dwelling may be seen 

The ornamental evergreen : 

And shrubs of every kind that bloom, 

To scent the air with rich perfume. 

Who. surrounded thus with flowers. 

Within those sweet and shady bowers, 

Could harbor anger, hate and strife, 

While all around was love and life. 

Far to the north the valley lay. 

Nothing obscures the grand display; 

No lofty mountain peaks are seen, 

Hut prairies, flowers and evergreen. 



OS POEMS OF IDAHO. 

This lovely valley northward runs 
Till bounded by the horizon; 
Towards the West, in sombre hue, 
The Coast Ranj^^e mountains rise to view: 
With forests crowned, their vigils keep 
To guard the valley from the sweep 
Of ocean storms that howl and roar 
Along Pacific's rugged shore; 
Who's angry waves at times arise 
Like mountains tow< ring to the skies; 
Lashed into fur}' by the storm 
They sweep the shore in wild alarm, 
Filling the air with foam and spray, 
And s^mtient beings with dismay; 
It then recedes to come again, 
But battled, then it seeks the main. 
The storm has ceased, the- waves are still, 
The birds their sweetest music trill; 
The beasts that crouched along the shore 
Come out and roam the hills once more; 
But ever from the troubled seas, 
O'er mountains sweeps the gentle breeze. 
To cool the air that otherwise 
Would heat Willamette's sunny skies. 
The rains in winter time descend. 
And prove the farmest dearest friend; 
A fertilizer for the soil 
To bless the tiller's honest toil; 
With crops that otherwise would fail. 
Or reach but half the common scale. 
And yetf when snows and rains descend. 
And tropic winds their influence lend. 
When high upon the moutain side 
The snows dissolve to swell the tide. 
They sweep the valle,y far and near. 
And fill the land with dread and fear; 
And homes that were the pride of life, 
I^eloved by children, man and wife. 
Are swallowed oy the angry flood 
That sweeps prosperity from the sod. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 99 

Bat still with all the faults I find. 

I'd love to seek the Western Rhine, 

And dwell forever on its shore 

Amidst the scenes I loved of 3'ore. 

Hut liere attain we cannot live. 

We have no cash for land to ^\ye, 

And by the wise men we are told 

We'd best not come without the gold 

To buy a home on which to toil 

And give the proceeds of the soil 

To banks, and rings, and corporate thieves. 

Who's robbing schemes the world deceives. 

Till toiling millions seem afraid 

They could not live without their aid, 

And vote to bind themselves in chains 

To corporate wealth and worldly gains. 

And as we do not choose to dwell 

In bond:»ge in an earthly hell. 

Our journey is not ended yet; 

We leave the land with sad regret, 

As brain and muscle is the store 

Of capital we have for use, 
We are not wanted on the shore 

That knew us in our early youth. 
We bid the land farewell again, 
We rise above the flowery plain. 

Northward we move to trj' our best 

To find a home or place of rest. 

Before old age shall dim our sight. 

Or manhood's sirength and memory blight. 

Along Willamette's vale we glide. 

And note the towns on ever}' side, 

And rural homes on every hand, 

With beauty crown this favored land. 

Till citizens with justice boast. 

The grandest valley on the coast. 

But here again we must not miss 
The Oregon metropolis. 



100 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

Poi'llaiid, the city of West, 
By nature, art and beautV dressed. 
Here mammoth ships and pleasure boats 
Upon the Willamette's bi-som float; 
Here vessels from all ports arrive 
To bring their foreion merchandise 
And carry from this port the grain 
And products of the fertile plains. 

Far to the East Mount Hood is seen, 

Down at his feet the evergreen, 

While up above the timber line 

His snow-crt)wned brow in beauty shines. 

Across Columbia's rolling tide 

Saint Helen stands. Old Mount Hood's bride. 

A natural bridge, traditions saj', 

Long ages since has passed a*vay, 

Where now the Cascade waters roar, 

Columbia spanned !r.)m shore to shore. 

But Hood and Helen — man and wife — 

Engaged in some domestic strife. 

Saint Helen, calm and sullen stood, 

And smoke and ashes threw at Hood; 

With voice of thunder, Hood aroused. 

The insult hurled back at his spouse; 

Saint Helen then with vengeance dire 

Answered Old Hood with tongues of fire; 

Mount Hood, with voice that shook the w^orld, 

l^ack at Saint Helen defiance hurled, 

While from his crest the flames arise, 

And clouds of smoke obscure the skies; 

The earth it shook for miles around, 

And wild beast trembled at the sound, 

While from their throats the lava streams 

Like liquid fire spurts and gleams. 

The natives, seized with wild dismay, 

In fear and trembling fled away; 

For such a quarrel was known by none 

On earth since time his course begun. 



rOEMS OF IDAHO. 101 

And while the earth in terror shook 
The natural bridge its place forsook. 
And tumbling down a ruined mass 
Columbia's waters o'er it pass. 
And thu<, traditions old have stated, 
The Cascade rapids were created. 
And Hood and Helen — man and wife — 
Stand separate now, divorced for life; 
Though silent now. calm and serene; 
Columbia's waters roll between. 

To Portland now we say good-bye. 

Eastward on wings of thought we fly, 

We pause upon the Cascade Range 

To view the scenery, grand and strange. 

Far to the West the ocean lay, 

Held by the rock bound coast at bay; 

When tempest-tossed it beats upon 

The western coast of Oregon, 

Against the western mountain chain 

The ocean forces beat in vain. 

But while the scenery charms our view 

Our eastward cour.'^e we must pursue. 

With aching heart I bid farewell 

To home and scenes of yore. 
The grand Willamette's flowery banks 

Perhaps I'll see no more. 
Hut in some other country fall, 

Or sink beneath some wave. 
Or in some lonely mountain pass 

May find a lonely grave. 

Through Eastern Oregon we move 
Rut find no home we can approve; 
Last winter cold, the snow was deep. 
And many now for fortunes weep; 
Their flocks and herds by thousands slain. 
Their bones lie bleaching on the plain; 
Their loss in stock we truly know. 
Was ten to one for Idaho. 



l"'-? POEMS OF IDAHO. 

We cross Sn;ike River once a.a-aiii, 

And strind on Idalio's domain; 

To Weisor City we advance, 

To view on e more the broad expanse, 

Tl^ie hills and plains that id e lie 

W ill yet vast fields of grain supply. 

And meadows bloom where sagebush stands 

\Vhen farmers iriigale their land; 

And fruit of m;>ny kinds will grow 

And ripen here in Idaho. 

Upon her hills the stock will graze 

And fatten here in future days; 

And Weiser's life.wid not expire 

Although it's been baptized in fire; 

Hut like old Egypt's bird of fame, 

Will fn^m its ashes rise again, 

And on a firmer basis stand. 

The pride and glory of tlie land. 

From Weiser City on we go 

Across the liills and up Monroe. 

And thence to Mann Creek, where we fin 1 

The ripened fruits of many kmds. 

And fields of barley, oats and wheat, 

And meadow grass our vision greet. 

Through Middle Valley then we strode. 

And note improvements on the road. 

Toward the north we ramble still. 

We stand at last upon a hill. 

And gazing north in glad surprise 

Salubria City greets our eyes. 

It stands upon a ferlile plain. 

Hedged round by fields of waving grain, 

Where but a few years back was seen 

The Indian lodge upon the green. 

A savage, wild, nomadic race 

That roamed about from place to place. 

And camped awhile upon the ground 

Where forest game and fish abound: 

Their onl/y, ,|l^pught in life's great race. 

To scalp a foe or JQJ^iitjlie.jqhii^t?; 



POEMS OF IDAHO. H'' 

To be a warrior, brave and true. 

Envied by all, excelled by lew; 

To v^^ear the war paint ol;" their race, 

Or win distinction in the chase. 

l^ut time strode on, and lo, the change 

That sprt^ad from plain to mountain range: 

The warrior from the scene lias fled 

JJefore the Anglo-Saxon's trcade, 

The lordly elk that roamed the plain 

Can never more return again; 

The cougar, with his savage growl 

The gray wolf, wth his dismal howl. 

All slaiii have been, or left the plain 

For safety in the mountain range; 
• The black, the brown, the grizzly bear, 

^Vith sullen growl forsook his lair. 

And higher up the mountain side 
From hunters seeks to save his hide: 
His doom is sealed, he can't turn back. 
The deadly rifle's on his track. 
And but a few more years at least 
Will end these wild and savage beasts. 
lUit in their place will then be seen 
Domestic herds upon the green; 
The wild cayuse must lea^•e the hill, 
\\m blooded Slock his place will fill. 
The antelope, and timid deer. 
Slowly but surely disappear. 
Northward toward the grassy hills 
We note friend Cuddy's flouring mill: 
And while the seasons move along 
It sings the same delightful song; 
It grinds the wheat to make the flour 
Tlmt gives the farmer strength and power 
To raise the wheat to grind again, 
And thus moves on an endless chain. 
l>ut time flies on. and we must roam 
Through Idaho to find a home. 
T'p Little Weiser as we move 
We find the country still improves: 



104 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

Till Indian Valle.y, rich and fjrand. 

In tillable and grazing iHnd, 

Excelled by none, equalled by few. 

In grandeur bursts upon our view; 

A rich, and fertile, flowery vale. 

A land where harvests never fail. 

Our journey north we still pursue 

Till Council Valley meeis our view; 

A rich and fertile land is seen. 

Bordered wiih hills of evergreen. 

Upon who's side the herds may graze 

In spring, summer or autumn days. 

And when old winter leaves' the land 

Thp flowers spring up on every hand, 

And gently waving in the air 

Inspire thoughts of E len there. 

Nor far away the mountains rise. 

In rugued grandeur to the skies. 

And form a scne that all admire. 

In whom, grand thoughts, such scenes inspire. 

In Salmon Meadows next we stand, 

A valley beautiful and grand; 

Some twenty miles in length, it seems, 

By shY in wiith, laved by streams 

Who's sparkling waters laughing course 

Fed ever from cool mountain source; 

And leaping' from their rugged sides 

In liquid streams of beauty glide 

Down to the flowery vale below 

To help the vegetation grow. 

Till led by man's industrious hand 

It irrigates the fertile land, 

And by its aid the farmer's blest 

With health and strength that's of the best. 

Across the hil's some seven miles 

The Paj'ette Lake in beaut}' smiles; 

No grander lake was ever seen, 

Of Idaho it is the queen; 

Some twelves miles long by thrae miles wide, 

No bottom found, though men have tried. 



POEMS OF IDAHO lOf) 

Around its shores the evergreen 
And giant forest trees are seen. 
The trout within its waters bask, 
Finer fisli man could not ask; 
The red, the wliite fish both are there, 
And furnish sport, to nimrods, rare. 
In Switzerhmd the hilces are grand 
As an}' Europe can command, 
But true it is they'd make no show 
If they were placed in Idaho. 

Below the hike a picture grand 

As ever met the eye, 
Long Valley stretches to the south 

Till bounded by the sky; 
Some sixty miles in length 'tis said, 

An average twelve miles wide; 
AVhile limpid streams, cool and bright. 

Leap forth from every side; 
The mountains clothed in nature's dress; 

The hills with richest grass, 
While through the vale toward the south, 

The Payette waters pass; 
And thermal springs, who's mineral wealth 

The world shall surely know, 
And thousands come to gain their health 

In favored Idaho 

Why should we wander o'er the land, 

Its merits we should know. 
We roamed its vales and mountain glens 

Some thirty years ago. 
When savage men lay on our track, 

And many a hero fell; 
When through the hills and valleys rang 

The Indian's sayage yell, 
And many a pioneer has gone 

W^ho trod the dangerous path, 
Who's life blood dyed with crimson hues 

The warrior's fatal shaft. 



UK) POEMS OF IDAHO. 

"Look o'er ihe state," the Genii said, 
''And see an empire grand. 
Where millions yet will live in peace 

And till the fertile land. 
See the lofty mountain range 

Where untold millions sleep, 
W^here future generations will 
Their golden harvpsls reap. 

The vast mesa that stretches south. 
Now known as desert land, 
By irrigation yet will bloom, 
Through man's industrious hand; 
And where the sagebush shades the land 
The farmers' orchards then will stand, 
And fruit shall bud and bloom and grow 
And ripen heie in Idaho." 

(Then apples, pears and nectarines. 
And apricots will here be seen, 
And peaches, prunes, grapes and plums 
Will bless the land in years to come. 
All here now to perfection grows. 
So Duboise says, and Fredie knows!) 

Five million acres it is claimed 
Compose the great plateau just named; 
Watered by streams from every side. 
Who's waters man will yet divide 
To quench the thirst of fertile plain. 
That irrigation will reclaim; 
And then within a few short years 
The desert lands will disappear. 
And in its stead will meadows gr^en 
And fields of waving grain be seen. 
But of our agricultural land 
We'd have the world to understand, 
'Tis but a fraction we have named 
Of sixteen million acres claimed, 
B3' those who know the history best 
Of this great empire of the West. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. lO' 

If information j'ou would court, 

Our a,2:ricultural report 

Will furnish facts correct and true, 

With fi<iures to prove the same to you. 

The averao-e yield of gviim the best 

Of any state witliin the West. 

And in the East llie yield we know 

Will not compare with Idaho. 

Our grazinir lands vast in extent, 

From which o^reat herds of stock are sent. 

Twenty per ceni, we understand. 

Of this great stite is timber land, 

And oak. and white and yellow pine. 

In great abundance here we find; 

And cedar, spruce and tamarack 

III quantity there is no lack: 

And white"! and red, and yellow fir 

Are found upon the mountains here: 

And quaken-asp and cottonwood. 

Mahogany tliat's hard and good; 

And many others thrive and grow 

Within the state of Idaho. 

The grandest rivers of the West 

Leap fr nn her rugged mountain crests: 

From East to West they grandly flow 

Across the state of Idaho. 

Insuring all without a doubt 

The water here will not give out. 

And how we turn with feelings strange 

To coiitempbite the mountain range, 

Who's rugged peaks in grandeur stand, 

The stern old monarchs of the land; 

Along their sides, around their base. 

The paths of pioneers we trace. 

Who, scorning danger, laughed at death, 

Defied the hardships in their path. 

Till by their efforts wealth untold 

In copper, silver, lead and gold; 

And many other minerals found 

That has with wealth the country crowned. 



108 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

Till third, at last, the figures show, 
In mineral wealth stands Idaho; 
And in the next decade may claim 
The first place on the roll of fame. 

Then as the noon-day sun declined 
We sought a grove cool Jiiid sublime: 
A place that seemed by nature blessed 
Above all others for quiet rest. 
And here the Genii spoke again: 
'"Behold," said he, "this vast domain; 

A few years back this land was held 
By savage men and untamed beasts: 

No woodman's ax the forests felled, 
No miner's pick its wealth increased, 

No fields of waving grain was seen, 
No school house, church or sacred home. 

No lowing herds or meadows green. 
No lofty spires or gilded dome; 
How grand the change that's come of late. 
It stands today a sovereign state. 
The star of empire moving on, 
Now shines above the horrizon," 

And here I have a word to say. 
Let farmers heed the facts who may, 
This state is young and many yet 
Are not bound down by mortgage debt. 
If you would peace and wealth command. 
Keep ever, mortgage-free, your land, 
They draw like a poultice day by day. 
Until they sap your land away. 
Then said the Genii with a smile. 
That did my weary thoughts beguile: 
"You've traveled many miles away. 
Yet found no place where you could stay. 
You've learned that since old Adam's birth. 
No Paradise is found on earth. 
Things are as the saying goes. 
The thorn will flourish with the rose; 



POEMS OF IDAHO. !()!» 

And while you must life's duties meet. 
You take the bitter with tiie sweet; 
The greatest liappiiiess you'll find 
Will dwell wiih n. contented mind. 
Now humble mortal take advice 
No longer search for Paradise, 
Nor o'er the wide world rambling go, 
l^ut build your home in Idaho." 

The wild birds singing here and there. 
With music filled the balmy an-; 
The flowers blooming all around. 
In robes of beauty clothed the ground: 
The herds were grazing f;ir and wide 
On foothills and on mountain side. 
The scene inspired us both with love 
For all the earth and heaven above; 
Within this cool and shady grove, 
The Genii sang a song of Love; 

THE genii's song. 

'Oh Mother Earth, dear Mother Earth ! 

I love to see you crowned with flowers; 
To hear 3'our songsters warble forth 

Their songs within your shady bowers. 

•I love the birds with plumage gay, 
That sport ami'lst the leafy trees; 

I love to hear their plaintive lay 
That floats upon the evening bree/e. 

"I love the mountains crowned with snow. 

That glisten in the morning light; 
I love to see the sun'sets glow 

Fade softly into silent night, 

'1 love to see the flocks and herds 

Grazing contented far and wide; 
I love to hear the rippling rills 

In music splash the mountain side. 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 

'I love all nature — it is divine — 
I love the earth and starry sky: 

I love to love the light that shines 
For love within the human eye. 

'In fact I believe I love the world 
And every lovely thing therein: 

Then let Love's banner be unfurled 
For love shall yet the erring win." 

The Genii ceased, the echo died 

Upon the evening bree/e; 
While birds their sweetest music trill 

Among the spreading trees. 
And then the Genii said good-bye, 
While love beamed from his sparkling eye: 
Although I longed to have him stay, 
He smiled, and tied in light away; 
And when I saw him thus depart 
It seemed a dagger pierced my heart. 

I 'woke, and greeted by thy glow. 

Oh prosperous sun of Idaho! 

Where blessings smile on every hand, 

A free, contented, happy land: 

I thought how free thy genial zone 

From ills that make our neighbors groan; 

And I the vision now relate 

To show that in this favored state; 

My neighbors all should make their home 

Nor. discontented, distant roam. 



OBITUARY POE-MS, 



In Memory of Six Children. 

I Died, in Council Vallej', Idaho, in 1892, ot diphtlieiia : Laura 
Morrison, Dec. ID; Sallj' Pickens. Dec. 12; Pearl Morrison and Ruby 
IMckensT, De(r. U; Mamie Morrison, Dec. 18; Johnny Pickens, Dec. la.] 

Farewell, sweet babes, though not forever. 

Life eternal grilds the sphere. 
Though Death's cruel hands may sever 

Friends for man}', many years. 

Though the shadows dark and dreary 

Gather round us like the night, 
Hope eternal points us upward 

To a world of love and light. 

Where we will meet the dear departed. 
Clasp the forms our hearts adore; 

Where Love blooms though time eternal. 
Fadeless as the Evermore. 

One by one the}- leave our vision, 

Cross Death's dark and turbid stream; 

Cross to dwell in fields Elysium, 
Lit by Loves eternal beams. 

Some pass on ere. Sorrow's mantle 

Casts it shadow on their life; 
Some must wage unequal battle, 

In this weary world of strife. 



]V2 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

Y<4 all arc heirs to life eternal, 
Death but sets the spirit free; 

Bids us seek our home supernal 
In the bright eternity, 

To clasp the forms we love so well, 
To kiss the lips once writhed in pain: 

In jjove's eternal smiles to dwell. 
And never more part again. 



Oatharine Harlan. 

I Was the jnother of M. T. Harlan, late denioi'ratiCL-antliilate fi 
the legislatui-e. She departed thirf life Febi-uary 10, 1890. | 

Farewell, kind friend, a little while. 
Then we the mystic stream must cross 

To meet again the welcome smile; 

To greet once more the loved and lost. 

Sleep on bene;ith the sacred soil 
That forms for thee thy holy bed; 

Thou are gone from all th.y cares and toil, 
To mingle with the silent dead. 

We too must join the immortal throng; 

Today we tread the paths of health: 
Tomorrow comes a wailing song: 

A heart is stilled, we sleep in death. 

Each in their turn must cross the stream. 
Till on this shore not one remains; 

Then shall thy hands with links of lovp, 
I^nile once more the broken chain. 

Again, farewell, 'tis fates decree 

That we should part to meet no more; 

Till when on earth our work is done, 
We'll meet upon a fairer shore. 

Where Sorrow's shadow never falls; 

Where Love eternal reigns supreme; 
Where sickness, death nor funeral pall. 

No more o'ercasts life's crvstal stream. 



OBITUARY POEMS UH 

Winston Sheehey, 

I Was the 4-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. P. W. Sheehey, ot Boise 
< ity, who were the host and hostess of Mr. Johnson when he was in 
The senate during the second session of the State Legislature. The 
l)()y died while he was there. 

Close the eyes in peaceful slumber; 

Fold the hands across the breast; 
Lay the casket pale and silent 

In its dreamless bed to rest. 



Friends have watched in grief and sorrow 
Close beside th}' couch of pain, 

Hoping still that each tomorrow- 
Would restore health again. 



But that dream of love has perished; 

Withered with the sacred dead; 
While the life we fondly cherished 

To a fairer world hath fled. 



Death is not the king of terror. 
But an angel pure and bright, 

Sent to lead us onward, upward, 
To a world of love and light. 



Death is a new born life expanding; 

Bursting into flowers of love; 
Reaching upward to the mansions 

That's prepared for all above. 



Farewell, then, 'till nature's mandate 
Bids us seek our home above; 

Then we'll meet beyond death's portals 
In a land of light and love. 



114 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

Hail and Farewell. 

[In memory of Miss Emma Hesler. daughter of Mr. aud Min. 
Hesler of Council Valley, Idaho. She died at Salubria Oct. 12, 1890. \ 

Farewell, how sari the woi'ds appear, 
That fate decree-s must be the last, 

When those whose love we cherished here 
Must through death's solemn portals pass. 

And sadder still, when a heart that's young-. 

By death's decree, is called to go; 
Whose hopes with brightest jewels hung; 

Whose soul with life is all aglow. 

Whose youth by joyous nature blessed, 
Just bursting into bud and bloom: 

With shadow fallini? to the West 
Goes out within a night of gloom. 

But death, the monarch of us all. 

No pity shows to age or race. 
The fair, the brave, the great, the small. 

Are caught within his cold embrace. 

We will not believe that thou art dead. 
Although we see thy form no more. 

Thy spirit from our presence fled 
To dwell upon a fairer shore. 

Although they strove to keep 3'ou here 
Still longer from the home above. 

The angel messenger of death 

Was stronger than the hand of love. 

As time rolls on. each in his turn 
Must sleep in death at Fate's command. 

We'll meet again and cease to mourn 
Within the joyous spirit land. 



OBITUARY POEMS. 115 



Sleep on within the sacred tomb 

That winter robes with purest snow.s 

When spring returns and flowers bloom, 
We'll plant for thee the lovely 



rose. 



And cherish still the thought sublime, 
To friends and relatives bereft, 

The star of hope most brilliant shines 
When it illumes the night of death. 



Hut short the time for joy and mirth, 
With friends, was given thee to dwell. 

Thy life was brief upon the earth. 
Hail and farewell. 



Tribute to Henry Wheeler. 

1 Henry Wheeler, who died in Indian VaUey, was one of those 
ilio braved the dangers met in crossing the plains in 184.3.] 

One by one the pioneers 

Sink down in death to rise no more; 
Peacefully the heroes slumber 

On Pacific's flowery shore. 



Thou were one among the many 
Who early trod the golden West; 

Saw the mountains, hills and valleys 
In their primal beauty dressed. 



But the time must come to all, 

That bids life's toils and troubles cease; 
W^hen each must answer to the call. 

Then fare thee well, rest thou in peace. 



POPULIST POEMS, 



'Tis Coming! Oh. 'tis Coming! 

'Tis coming, hark the herald's cry, 

The glorious day is dawning, 
The light that's shining in the sky 

Foretells the coming morning; 
The clouds of night shall roll away, 

The darkness is receding; 
Then all mankind shall brothers be, 
And justice crown the meeting 
'Tis coming! oh. 'tis coming! 

The nations to deliver; 
Then honor, justice, truth and right, 
Shall reign on earth forever. 

Then hate shall leave the human breast, 

By love dethroned forever; 
Then envj', malice, spite and falsehood 

No more the world shall sever; 
Then truth shall worship at love's shrine, 

And falsehood leave the nation, 
And Justice hold the scales aloft 
In high and lofty station. 
'Tis coming! oh. 'tis coming! 

The darkest clouds are riven; 
Then happiness shall reign supreme, 
And life be worth the living, 



POPUT.rST POEMS. 117 

Work on brave souls and fuller not, 

But ever keep advancing. 
Nor quail before the bigots' frowns. 

Or hate's malignant glances; 
Though tyrant's tools with spite and lies, 

Proclaim their cringing spirit. 
We'll press our banner to the skievS, 
And guard its glorious merit. 
'Tis coming! oh. 'tis coming! 

It will be a glorious morning; 
With the light of love from heaven jibove. 
The lives of men adorning. 



Then let us work with might and main. 

And every effort double. 
And Freedom's sacred cause maintain. 

Nor falter in the struggle; 
Till tyrant's hosts shall all disband. 

To never more assemble; 
And Despotism lift its hand 
From off our sacred temple. 
'Tis coming! oh, 'tis coming! 

The day is near at hand 
When truth and justice shall proclaim 
The Brotherhood of Man. 



The Eeps. and the Demos- , the Shy locks and Pops. 

An old man sat in his easy chair. 

About the future he had no fear; 

He had feathered his nest at the Wall Street pool. 

Though the weather was warm he was taking 

things cool. 
With ice houses plenty, and lots of ice cream. 
Of hunijer and want he had never a dream. 



1 18 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

And lien' it is proper that we should relate, 
He of a ureat nation was chief migistrale; 
Elected to office by the true and the brave. 
The hitid from tlie rule of the tyrant to save. 
For tile despots that wielded a sce[)ter of gold 
Were robbing: the nation of millions untold; 

Tlie people looked up to their ruler with pride; 
They believed that his wisdom would be on their 

side; 
That peace and contentment the toiler would bless, 
From the North to the South; from the East to the 

VVe.t; 
For all that he asked for, he said, was a chance 
To show his irreat wisdom and our interests advance. 

The Reps were a race that had ruled in the land 
For many loiif? years with a tyrannous hand; 
On the specious pretence our rights to maintain; 
They have stolen our riches and bound us in chains; 
They have robbed us of rights that our fathers 

maintained. 
And covered th(^ land with dishonor and shame. 

Hut the Demos., an lionorable race, so they said, 
Who's ancestors freely for freedom had bled, 
Declared that the Re])S. were disgracing the land 
And robbing thn nation at Sh} locks command; 
They declared that if the people would give them 

a show 
They would down the Shylocks and the Reps. 

overthrow. 

The people had suffered for man.y long years; 
Had toiled and struggled in sorrow and tears; 
Had labored and prayed to the Reps, for relief, 
That their bondage be broken from Shylock and 

thief; 
But their prayers and entreaties the Reps, would 

disdain. 
They'd command them to labor but never complain. 



POPUI.IST POEMS. lli> 

So the people concluded the Shylocks must go; 
They voted and prayed for the Reps, overthrow; 
TheDemos. triumphant, the Reps, in their grave. 
We would sound the death knell of the robber 

and knave; 
The battle was fought: it was a glorious siglu: 
The Demos, victorious. Ihe Reps, pat to figlit. 

The people rejoiced that the nation was free; 
They h;id conquered the tyrants from over the sea; 
No more will the Shylocks the peoph' oppress: 
From tlie North to the South: from the F.ast to tlie 

West; 
Our laws will b<* fashioned for justice and right. 
By tlie Demos, who won in that glorious figlit. 

The Demos, declared they would <:ive us wise laws; 
The people should prosper in every great cause; 
The Shylocks and Reps, sliould no longer oppress. 
But business should boom and the people be blest: 
Our banner in triumph forever should wave 
O'er the land of the free, not the home of the slave. 

But the power of the Shylocks began to unfold; 
They had blinded the eyes of the Demos, with gold; 
And the people have learned in sorrow and shame. 
That the Demos, are Reps, with a different name; 
They have bound us in chains to a villianous crew. 
Done just what the Reps, had intended to do. 
They have stolen our money; have ravished our 

homes; 
With the plunder erected to Mammon a throne; 
They have fashioned a god, like the Hebrews of old, 
Then bid us bow down to their image of gold. 
But hark, while triumphant shouts break from 

their lips. 
For victory won by the Demos, and Reps., 
A voice of defiance from mountain and vale, 
From workshop and hamlet rose up on the gale; 
From North to South, from East to West, 
'Tis a voice that no Shy lock can ever suppress. 



120 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

■ Tis ihe voice of the people the Demos, have sold: 
\\\u) refuse to bow down to their image of j^^old; 
"Tis 1h(^ voice of toilers who've long been oppressed 
By the Reps, and Demos, at the Shy locks request; 
l)iit the people have risen in anger and might, 
l)(4ermined to conquer the land for the right. 

'J'hey see the handwriting, 'tis plain on the wall; 
The Dfinos. and Reps, with the Shy locks must fall: 
The people are waking from dreams of the past; 
Tiiey're arousing from slumber to duty at last; 
And the sun shall not shine on a Shy lock or slave. 
In the land of the free and the home of the brave. 



The Bugle Call. 

Hark, we hear the bugle calling 
From mountain, hill and plain; 

Into line the brave are falling, 

Freeman arise, your rights to maintain 

Mothers, wake the song of freedom, 
Let its anthems pierce the skies 

Till the toiling men and women 
Slavery's galling chains despise. 

Long we've groped in mental darkness. 
And meekly worn the tyrant's chains; 

Yielding all to fill his coffers. 

Health and wealth and worldly gains. 

Though many promises they'd made us 

Of intentions good and wise. 
When they wield the power of office 

They are deaf to all our cries. 

Then the God of Mammon rules them; 

Rules them with a rod of iron, 
Till their conscience, seared, callous, 

Knows no sacred rights divine. 



POPULIST POEMS. 121 

See the trembling steps of manhood 

Totter on toward the grave, 
While behind his offspring lingers. 

Branded as a rich man's slave. 

Hear the mother's wail of anguish, 

Borne upon the evening air, 
As with trembling steps the3' languish 

On th(» verge of sad despair. 

See your mothers, wives and daughters 
Toil through life, a tyrant's slave. 

Fill with wealth the rich man's coffers. 
Fill themselves a pauper's grave. 

Hear the trembling voice of childhood 

Plead in vain for food and care: 
See the withered cheeks of famine. 

Drenched with sorrow's scalding tear. 

Men of toil, whai are you doingi 

Will you still stand idly by"? 
See those tyrants work your ruin. 

Hear the famished children's cry? 

Must we still divide our forces 

While the tyrants all unite? 
Weaken thus our last resources 

While our foemen win the fight? 

Hark! We hear the shouts of freemen. 

Herald of the toiler's might! 
See the star of freedom rising 

Grandly into perfect light. 

Our forefathers fought for freedom. 

Then bequeathed the prize to us; 
We must now defend her altars 

And transmit the sacred trust. 

Let us then uphold our banner. 

With a courage firm and true; 
Scorn the men that would dishonor 

Freedom's grand Red, White and Blue. 



133 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

The Seven Devil Miner's Appeal to the Farmers 
and Knights. 

Watchman, tell us of the fight, 

Is our banner waving high? 
Will the friends of truth unite 

In the cause to win or die? 

Will they bravely face the foe 

For the right on every field? 
Like the guards at Waterloo, 

Die if need, but never yield? 

Where is Weaver? Where is Streeter? 

Is Beaumont still in the van? 
Powderly and many others, 

Are they doing all they can? 

In the gathering storm of battle. 

Will they by our colors stand. 
To dethrone the robber parties 

And promote the rights of man? 

Nail our colors to the mast. 

Let it kiss the breeze of heaven. 

By our fathers of the past 

Was the freeman's banner given. 

Let no craven hand of 13- rants 

Soil the banner of the free; 
Let it wave, let Justice triumph 

Over land and over sea. 

Men of honor lead the van, 

In the cause of truth and right; 

Let us by our colors stand; 

Knights and Farmers all unite, 

Rally, then, ye Knights of Labor; 

Farmers for your homes unite; 
Temperance women, men and brothers. 

Aid us in the coming fight. 



POPULIST POEMS. 128 

Now's the lime the brave one chooses, 
While the cowards stands aside, • 

Doubting-, in their abject spirits, 
Till their Lord is crucified, 

When the smoke of battle's lifted 

From the land and o'er the sea. 
May we see our banners weaving 

O'er a nation grand and free. 



Oome All Ye Toiling Millions. 

Come all ,ye toiling millions that labor for your life 
To support yourselves and familes — your children 

and your wife; 
Come rally to our standard now in this gigantic 
strife. 

Then w'e'll go marching to victory. 

Chorus: 

Hurrah! Hurrah! Our banner is unfurled. 

Hurrah' Hurrah! It's waving proudly o'er the world. 

The tyrants and the robbers from their places will 

be hurled 

As we go marching to victory. 

Come join the brave Alliance, boys, and help the 

cause along; 
Our battle is for freedom now, against a giant 

wrong. 
We never will give up our homes to such a thieving 

throng. 

As we go marching to victory. 

We're fighting old monopoly and the gigantic trust. 
They've taken all the corn and oil. left us the cob 

and husk. 
But when we get our ballots in you'll hear their 

bubble burst. 

As we go marching to victory. 



124 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

The promises thej- made us not one was ever kept, 
]iut 'round the tree of liberity the sneakino^ tyrants 

crept. 
They sought to blight our heritage while (juietly 

we slept, 

But we'll go marching to victory. 

They gobbled up our greenbacks then issued out 

their bond. 
Then made us pay the interest to support the 

thieving throng. 
And when we made objection they told us we were 

wrong, 

But we'll go marching to victory. 

The3''ve taken all our land estate and claim it as 
their own, 

While husbands, wives and children are left with- 
out a home. 

And willing hands to foreign lands in search of 
work must roam. 

But we'll so marchiny to victorv. 



The bankers rob the farmers, and tlie railroads 

steal the land, 
And in their cursed robbing schemes tliey both go 

hand in hand. 
They think our business is to obey wliile their's is 

to command. 

But we'll go marching to victory. 

We've trusted the Republicans and failed to take a 

trick; 
We've leaned upon the Democrats and found a 

broken stick; 
We'll try the Knights and Farmers now and then 

you'll see how quick 

That we'll go marching to, victory. 



POPUIJST POEMS. 125 

And now we stand united the bosses best look out: 
With faitli and honor plighted, we'll put them all 

to rout. 
And with an honest ballot now we'll put the rascals 

out 

As we go marching to victory. 



The Omaha Platform. 

Touch nt)t with sacrilegitjus hands, 
The noblest instrument of all, 

Tlie platform of the people stands 
A tower of strength that cannot fall. 

'Tis built of timber clear and sound. 
There's not a crack or knot-hole there; 

No single plank can there be found 
That is not honest, just and fair. 

At Omaha in Ninety-two. 

Upon our glorious natal day. 
We built the platform firm and true, 

And told the world we'd come to stay 

The North and South together met. 

Clasped hands across the bloody chasm; 

Declared the past they would forget. 
And every wrong should be forgiven. 

United there the true and brave. 

Shoulder to shoulder in the fight; 
The bloody shirt no longer waved, 

But sunk forever out of sight. 

Our leader on this platform stood. 

And told the world our cause was just; 
Then shall we now desert the good. 

And trail our banner in the dust. 



■2<) POEMS OF IDAHO. 

To satisfy tliose silver braves 

Wlio would our solid phalanx break. 

AVho find the parting? of the ways, 
l>ut never know which road to take. 

The most im[)ortant planks of all 
Is money, transportation and land; 

To take one out ihe rest will fall, 
And robber Shy locks rule the land. 

F^pt tliose who wish to step aside 
To listen to the g-oldbug's song, 

To help the plutes our ranks divide, 
First prove to us our cause is wrong. 

Till then let us wave our banner high. 
And to our cause the masses draw. 

Till shouts of victory rend the sky, 
And ever}- plank becomes a law. 



The Modern Ohiirch in Relation to the Poor, 

L(), it is the Sabbath morning. 

Hark, what music fills the air? 
It is the sacred churcli bells calling 

Sinners to the House of Prayer. 

See the rich of lofty station. 
Robed in silks and satins there, 

See them kneel in adoration 

While the parson offers prayer. 

Hear the solemn suplicatiou 
"Give us this day our daily bread; ' 
Oh. save this pious congregation, 
Blessings pour upon each head! 



POEMS OF IDAHO. 127 

The pHVSon ceased his benediction. 
From their knees the pious rise; 

Then the deep-toned organ's anthems 
Rise in i>i'andeur to the skies. 

Then the parson pleads for sinners, 
'•Come to Jesus !" is the cry; 
"See. he suffered deatli and lorture 
On the cross for you and I." 

Still my mind ke[>l up the query, 
Wliere was Jesus while on earth? 

Did he dwell in costly mansions 
With the rich of noble birth? 

Was he robed in silks and satins. 

Did he scorn the toiling poor? 
When he entered in the temple 

On the laborers close the door? 

How much they all all observe the precepts 
Jesus tausht them while on earth; 

When he cursed tlie rich and haughty; 
Blessed the poor of lowly birth. 

Jesus taught mankind were brothers; 

Taught the Fatherhood af God; 
Taught us justice, love and mercy. 

While the paths of earth he trod. 

vScourged he the robbers from the temple; 

Called the place a den of thieves; 
IMessed the poor, the weak and lowly; 

Shunned the doubting Pharisees. 

Jesus taught a noble Gospel; 

Fired with love ihe human breast; 
Taught us that the weak and weary 

Through Ins mission would find rest. 



128 POEMS OF IDAHO. 

Yet weary still and heavN' laden. 

Millions toil from xoorn till niiifht; 
Weeping, praying for the morning 

That shall usher in the light. 

Jesus on the cross was braver 
Than the persecuting Jew, 

Whf'U he prayed, "Father forgive them 
For they know not what they do.*' 

Eighteen hundred years have vanished. 
Still the money changers dwell 

In the sacred halls of freedom, 
Changing Paradise to hell. 

Crushing noble aspirations; 

Planting thorns where roses fade; 
( Jathering in the fruits of nations, 

Tlius the Shylocks ply their trade. 

How long must the people wander 
Sad and homeless on the land? 

How long must they yet be plundered 
Hv this robber Shylock band. 




N©£><. 



Fase 

Tillt^ Pa,i,'e 1 

Publisher's Note 2 

Sunset oil Rapid River 8 

The Home of the Mountaineer 4 

Tlie Seven Devils — Review of the Camp o 

Love 14 

Farewell to Irlaho 15 

To My Mother in the Spirit World 17 

Sunset at Seven Devils 18 

In Memory of My Old Saddle Horse, Curley . . . 20 
Charles Bradlaugh. the English Freethinker ... 21 

Tm Growing Old 22 

A Legend of the Seven Devils 23 

The World's Needs 25 

The Grave of the Stranger 26 

Can Tliis B- All 27 

A Rough Outside No Sign of Depravity HI 

A Trip to Rapid River 32 

(xirls I Cannot Understand 3o 

The Seven Devil Miner's Bear Fight 36 

Advice for 'All 38 

Sunrise at Seven Devils 31) 

Awake -tl 

A Replv to a Critic -^3 

The Journev of Life 44 

Cuddy Floiir 46 

Replv to Mono Miner 49 

Cuddv Flour No 2 5() 

If You Love Me Tell Me S( 53 

The Murdered Bird— A Victim of Man's Cruelty 54 

To the House Fly ~}^ 

Salubria's Fire •"><> 

Olga •">•* 

A Moonlight Night in Idaho '>4 



Page 

Our Banner 05 

A Vision of the Ni^'ht (57 

The Lonely Grave Beside Die Road 68 

Autumn 00 

My Mother's Hair 70 

Tlie Israelite's Mnle Ride 71 

The Desf^rted Husband 78 

Composed and Sun^ for Some Little Girls 74 

Seven Devil Song 7(> 

A Vision of the Future 78 

My Partner's Snore 71) 

I'm Sad To-Nif?ht 81 

The Return of Spring- 82 

The Seven Devil Miner's Dream 84 

In Memory of Six Children Ill 

Catherine Harlan 112 

Winston Sheehe^' 1 1 H 

Ifail and Farewell 114 

Tribute to Henry Wheeler. . 115 

'Tis Comiuii ! oh 'Tis Coming IK) 

The Reps, and Demos., the Shy locks and Pops, 117 

The Bugle Call 120 

The Seven Devil Miner's Appeal to the Farmers 

and Knights 122 

Come All Ye Toiling Millions 123 

The Omaha Platform 125 

The Modern Church in Relation to the Poor. . . 12(> 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

pn 

018 597 812 6 # 



